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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23815753">Green</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/msilene/pseuds/msilene'>msilene</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Voltron - Fandom, Voltron: Legendary Defender</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>AU, Alternate Universe, Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Drinking, Eventual Keith/Lance (Voltron), F/F, Gay Keith, Gay Keith (Voltron), Gen, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Gender-Neutral Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, I CAN USE EMOJIS?!!!, I promise the ending is happy, I said slow burn but it's 15 chapters so what do you expect, Idiots in Love, Idiots to Idiots, It's the author saying theyll update but then never actually updating her fics for me, Keith (Voltron) is Bad at Feelings, Keith (Voltron) is a Mess, Keith/Lance (Voltron) Angst, Keith/Lance (Voltron) Fluff, Lance (Voltron) is a Mess, M/M, Minor Allura/Romelle (Voltron), No Sexual Content, Other, Sexual References, Slow Burn, The rest of Voltron gives Klance a shove in the right direction, Voltron, Voltron au, bi lance, everyone is 21+, idiots to lovers, if you read chapters before i edit them, im sorry, klance, legal drinking, mostly - Freeform, no beta we die like men, nonbinary pidge, not really actually, pov switches a lot ngl, shadam/ shiroxmatt if you squint, voltron alternate universe, voltron band au, yes this is me reflecting my ideal world onto my comfort characters, ✨no you didn’t 😌✨</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 15:29:22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>18,853</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23815753</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/msilene/pseuds/msilene</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Band AU where Voltron is Keiths band with Hunk, Pidge, and Shiro in it. Keith wrote a song about Lance (Un-requited crush from high school) And guess who's in the audience when it's debuted. (Hehe) Also I have klance one shots on my page if you aren't in the mood for a plot lol. Anyways my boys are gay and confused and angry and some things happen. The song im referencing Is "Green," by Cavetown.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Allura/Romelle (Voltron), Klance - Relationship, Matt Holt/Shiro (Voltron), Shadam - Relationship</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>66</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. A New Song</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“You ready Keith?”</p><p>I turned to him. Shiro, our backup guitarist and pianist, my childhood friend. Basically my older brother. He knew me better than anyone in the band.</p><p>I nodded. If I spoke, he would hear the nerves in my voice.</p><p>“Hey nerds,” a smaller, but much feistier voice calls from further up towards the stage. “Quit the bro talk, we’re up in five.”</p><p>Pidge, our smallest, meanest, most gremlin member, played drums. They could barely be seen over the drums on some days. They’ve sat on boosters before, it was excellent blackmail material.</p><p>“You’re sure you’re good? We can change the set if you need to.” Shiro reminds me once more.</p><p>I sigh. “I know, and I’m good, I promise. I got this.” I tell him, trying my hardest to believe it.</p><p>He nods and we make our way towards the other members.</p><p>Voltron, our band of four, including myself, Shiro, Pidge, and Hunk.</p><p>Hunk was another one of our guitarist’s, he also did drums if Pidge needed to be on something else, like a keyboard. That was one thing I loved about Voltron. We each had our own thing, but we can switch and change it up to keep it interesting for both ourselves and for our audiences.</p><p>For example, I’m the main vocals and guitarist, but I can step aside for Hunk to do his thing, on either guitar or drums, and the same goes with Pidge. And they might not like to admit it, but their voice was amazing to harmonize with, so when I need them for a song, Hunk and Pidge simply switch and all is well.</p><p>Shiro also helps with vocals at times, but only when I hand the mic to him to entertain the audience. They all love him, and what am I supposed to do? Deny them the right to force him to sing? <em>Hell</em> no.</p><p>They love him even more on the piano, they scream and shout so loud when he gets seated, it’s become a running joke that our success depends on Shiro and his bench.</p><p>Together our sound is… different. A good different. Not quite pop or punk or indie, we’re something in the middle of all of them and more. Whatever it is, it’s us. And I love every second of it. We’re always down for something new, a new song, challenge, angle or instrument. A new sound, a new story. And even though our style changes, whatever we do is inexplicably, utterly, <em>Voltron</em>.</p><p>Like tonight, Pidge would be taking a break from the drums to sit on Shiro’s piano and play their ukulele, debuting our new song. Hence me being so nervous.</p><p>I had written it, like most of our songs, but normally we collaborate for lyrics. This one was, for the most part, solely me.</p><p><em>My</em> words. <em>My</em> thoughts. <em>My</em> emotions.</p><p> </p><p>And I was going to sing it live in front of at least one or two hundred people.</p><p> </p><p>A booming voice brings me out of my thoughts.</p><p>“And now, back by popular demand, Team Voltron!” The announcer queue’s us on and the crowd, quite literally, goes wild. Their yells are a mix of, “<em>Voltron! Voltron! Voltron!</em>” along with our individual names. I give a smile in any direction I hear my name yelled from, only earning us more shrieks.</p><p>We take our places, the lights fade, and I begin.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>In the blink of an eye, our usual set is up, and it’s time for the new song.</p><p>Breathing heavily, I drop my guitar, letting the strap catch it, rake through my hair with my free hand, and speak into the mic.</p><p>“Why thank you so <em>very</em> much,” they yell and applaud in response, I raise my hand to quiet them.</p><p>“Now, my bandmates and I, would like to let you in on something a little special. It’s our newest song and it is very special to us, but me especially. I’ve been writing it for a while, and with some help from the team, it’s finally ready. We’re all excited for you to hear it.” I turn towards Pidge to check that they’re in position.</p><p>The crowd once again settles, the lights calm once more, I switch out my electric guitar for an acoustic one, and, taking a deep breath, I begin to play.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>Lance's POV</strong>
</p><p>“Veronica, I really don’t think it’s a good idea to be here. I haven’t talked to these guys since high school, and you know how things ended with Keith…”</p><p>She rolled her eyes, dragging me further into the crowd.</p><p>“I’m serious V, he hates me.” I’ve been trying to reason with her all week. Ever since I mistakenly told her the band that played at the Balmera club she loves so much all the time were my old classmates.<br/>“Lance come on! I’m not doing this for me, I would be fine talking to them on my own, or just watching their shows. <em>You’re</em> the one who has a huuuuge crush on the lead singer.”</p><p>“HEY! I do not—”</p><p>The words fall silent out of my mouth as I see him take his gloved hand (fingerless of course, still emo) through his hair. Still a mullet, but a bit longer, and wilder. Very <em>Rockstar</em> of him.</p><p>He’s sweaty from performing, wearing a loose black tank with a faded red emblem on the center, with dark grey sweatpants. He hasn’t changed much. Still extremely muscular, and still has a razor-sharp jawline.</p><p>Damn.</p><p>I close my gaping jaw, red spreading across my face, trying to regain at least some dignity, but I turn to see Veronica smirking that stupid, “<em>I told you so</em>,” smirk of hers and all hope is lost.</p><p> </p><p>I sigh.</p><p> </p><p>“Just shut up.”</p><p>“I didn’t say anything.” Her voice is light and teasing. I could strangle her it’s so infuriating.</p><p>I shoot her a glare, but all she does is laugh and pull me closer towards the front for a “better view of your beau.”</p><p>I was about to say something back when I realized Keith was speaking.</p><p>Veronica laughed at my sudden intensity of focus on the stage. I waved my hand over my face and listened.</p><p>“Now, my bandmates and I, would like to let you in on something a little special. It’s our newest song and it is very special to us, but me especially. I’ve been writing it for a while, and with some help from the team, it’s finally ready. We’re all excited for you to hear it.” He spoke with such clarity, such confidence, and his voice deeper; it was almost hard to imagine he was the same kid who could barely present a project in English. It's like he changed into completely different person. A confident one. </p><p>It suited him. </p><p>The lights faded, a green hue took over the room, setting a calm and still scene. Everyone anticipating the new song.</p><p>Keith breathed in deeply, the same way he used to when he got focused on something he was passionate about.</p><p>Maybe he hasn’t changed much after all.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Memories</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>this one might be a bit confusing but if the italics work, italics are flashbacks, and if not the tabbed lines are the flashbacks.<br/>—future ilene here, i’m dumb and i figured them out (obviously lol)</p><p>(i can’t talk rn i’m doing sad gay shit) AHEM. ALEXA. PLAY GREEN BY CAVETOWN</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Lances' POV</strong>
</p><p>He started off plucking his guitar, and I was transfixed by the movement, the subtleties, the rhythm, the talent. I didn’t even catch the first few lines, and I internally cursed myself for it. I refocused.</p><p>“I see your eyes in the flowers, I’ll pick a bunch for your room, green and blue to match your picture.”</p><p>My breath catches in my throat. It’s a love song.</p><p>Of course he’s moved on. Why shouldn’t he? It’s totally fine. We’re fine. I’m fine.</p><p>“You looked so good in green. I hope you’re well.”</p><p>Oh. A breakup song. But about who?</p><p>“And you look so good with her, and I’m proud of you still.</p><p>“I miss your perfect teeth; I was too blunt. I hope you feel happy, that’s all I want.”</p><p>Too many thoughts buzz through my brain as the room begins to swirl.</p><p>
  <em>“Hey Keithy boy, how’s the mullet doing?” I strut towards him in our space science class, her rolls his eyes but it only fuels my teasing.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“The mullet is doing just fine, Lance. I see you’re still as annoying.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Ouch. I play it off in what I hope is a cool manner.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Well, I was only gone for a day, emo boy. Now I can go back to bugging you!”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Great.” He drawls, sarcasm oozing from his mouth.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>The scene shifts</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>My heart beats so fast it might fly up and away, out of my chest.</em>
</p><p><em>We’re laying on the grass by a lake. We’d spent the day with the gang, but they’d all gone now. It was just us. Laying here, under the sunset, so close—</em>too<em> close—he looks over to me, I return the favor.</em></p><p><br/>My mind blurs back to reality.</p><p> </p><p>“Mess in the kitchen”</p><p>And never mind, there i go again, brain bubbling back in time, because it’s convenient for ilene and the plot and don’t question it too much.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>We’re laughing too much, flour all in our hair, coating us, the floor and the counters in white.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I look up at him, the laughter fades to grins. The grins fade to stares that linger far too long. Trying not to glance at each other’s lips but failing anyway. The thought of soft, plump, sickly sweet lips planting cinnamon sugar kisses on my lips takes over my brain.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>The beat drops and focuses my brain on Keith. I think once more of his lips, as he sings once more, my heart beating faster with every strum of his guitar.</p><p> </p><p>“I was so disappointed. I guess I got to my head, and I was too young to understand it.”</p><p> </p><p><em>Panic. </em>No.<em> I like girls. </em>Only <em>girls. </em>No boys<em>. That’s wrong. I’m straight. Nothing more, nothing less. Just girls. Keith was </em>stupid. I <em>was straight.</em></p><p> </p><p>I shook my head, trying to rid the memory of my repressed emotions. </p><p>I'd grown since then, and accepted that part of myself. I know who I am now. I’m better than I was then. </p><p>But it still hurt, the things I used to say and do. The people my own stupidity affected.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>Keith's POV</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>“I get it now that it’s too late, I never stopped feeling guilty.”</p><p> </p><p>Thoughts of him, his laugh, his smile, his confidence.</p><p>Then all of it falls.</p><p>His tears replace laughs. Angry, wet glares replace smiles, and frustration and fury replace confidence.</p><p>My gut clenches as I refocus myself on the song.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m over it, I promise that. I just gotta sing it out of me.”</p><p> </p><p>But <em>was</em> I? If he still made me feel like this, after years of not talking, and he still brought of thoughts like I was having? Nope. Not the time for an internal crisis Akira, you’re on stage. </p><p>“You looked so good in green. I hope you’re well.”</p><p> </p><p>I could’ve sworn I saw his face in the crowd, but when I looked back it was just some other guy.</p><p> </p><p>“And you look so good with her, and I’m proud of you still.</p><p>Take care of my shirt, warm and red.”</p><p> </p><p>He never did give it back, said he had to wash the lake water out of it. Bastard.</p><p> </p><p>“I hope you think of me, still as your friend. I hope you love yourself, your body and heart.</p><p> </p><p>“I hope you feel happy, that’s all I want.</p><p> </p><p>“That’s all I want.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>YALL THIS IS FUTURE EDITING ILENE AND I ALMOST JUST DELETED THE CHAPTER OMG  </p><p>i didn’t tho so go me 😌</p><p>pls leave kudos &amp; bookmark to let me know if you enjoyed this chapter of Green!! as always leave any questions, comments, concerns or emotional outburts in the comments. </p><p>thanks again! ~Ilene</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. You're joking, right?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Keith discovers who was in his audience and Lance... well he does some discovering of his own.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The crowds holler. Screaming names and yelling “I LOVE YOU”’s.</p><p>I just felt numb.</p><p>Beside me, Veronica nudges me to clap with her, and my limbs follow along in the motion, but all I can focus on is him.</p><p> </p><p>He’s blushing, looking down towards the floor. How does he look so damn cute?</p><p> </p><p>He moves back to face the crowd.</p><p>“Thank you all very much. Goodnight!” He waves goodbye to the screaming crowds once more, and the lights dim as they all exit the stage.</p><p> </p><p>I keep staring at the empty stage, until Veronica pulls me to face her.</p><p> </p><p>“You wanna get out of here, grab some ice cream and head home? You seem tired.” She asks, cupping my face in her hand, concerned.</p><p> </p><p>Thank goodness for her Older Sister Instincts™️ , because that was exactly what I needed.</p><p>I nodded, and we made our way out of the club.</p><p> </p><p>We stepped into the fresh, evening air, and I once again thought of the night by the lake.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>We turn to each other, our faces barely an inch apart. I can feel his breath on my face.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>I smile, nostalgia hitting me like a train. Those were the days.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Once our ice cream is all eaten up and we arrive back home, I flop on my bed, like true Disney Princess I am. </p><p> </p><p>What a night.</p><p> </p><p>I didn’t even talk to him, yet I feel more things fluttering through my chest than they have in a while.</p><p> </p><p>I think back to the lyrics.</p><p>“<em>You look so good in green. I hope you're well.”</em></p><p>Someone who wears green often? I turn to glare accusingly at my closet, where the green bomber jacket I wore <em>every day</em> in high school still resides. I mean it’s a cute jacket, but what the hell McClain, spice it up a little! So, <em>Check</em>. Why did i have to wear the stupid green jacket??!!</p><p>Someone he’s no longer in check with? <em>Check</em>.</p><p>“<em>And you look so good with her,”</em> A guy who he thinks is straight?</p><p>I sighed.</p><p><em>Check</em>.</p><p>“<em>And I’m proud of you still,</em>” I thought back to all the smiles and warm looks he would give me, making me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. <em>Maybe check?</em></p><p> </p><p>
  <em>“I miss your perfect teeth; I was too blunt.”</em>
</p><p> </p><p>The teeth part was confusing, because what the <em>Fuck</em>. But Keith is blunt with everyone, so that doesn’t narrow it down any. So, no check for this line. </p><p>I’d definitely come back to the teeth part, like what the hell? What is that every supposed to mean? </p><p> </p><p>“<em>I hope you feel happy, that’s all I want.</em>”</p><p> </p><p>Another maybe. Too vague.</p><p> </p><p>“<em>Mess in the kitchen.”</em></p><p> </p><p>Lingering eyes and flour fills my head. <em>Definitely check</em>.</p><p> </p><p><em>“I was so disappointed. I guess I got to my head, and I was too young to understand it.” </em>Yep.</p><p> </p><p><em>“I get it now that it’s too late,” </em>another yes. “<em>I never stopped feeling guilty.”</em></p><p> </p><p>Maybe?</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>“I’m over it, I promise that. I just gotta sing it out of me.”</em>
</p><p>Heartbreaking, but <em>check</em>. </p><p>If this check system adds up to what I think it will, I’m definitely going to need to repress some feelings that <em>totally don’t exist</em>.</p><p>I count them up, and my breath leaves my lungs completely.</p><p> </p><p>It <em>was</em> about me.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>Keith's POV</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>We exit the stage and I released a breath I didn’t know I’d been holding.</p><p>“We did great tonight guys,” Shiro said, walking up behind me and patting my back. “I’m proud of you Keith.”</p><p> </p><p>I feel my eyes roll instinctively.</p><p> </p><p>“Thanks, Shiro.”</p><p>We pack up our instruments and things, preparing for our next couple shows this week, then head out and back to our apartments.</p><p> </p><p>We were all famished, so Shiro, being the dad friend he is, ordered us a pizza. When they arrived, we destroyed them in seconds.</p><p> </p><p>After eating, Shiro and Hunk went off to bed, leaving Pidge and I up in Shiro and I’s apartment.</p><p>“So that song, it’s about Lance, right?” They asked, breaking the<em> perfectly good silence,</em> if you asked me.</p><p> </p><p>I sighed.</p><p> </p><p>“Yes. You knew this already, why are you asking?”</p><p> </p><p>“Well…” they started hesitantly.</p><p> </p><p>I gave them a look of “<em>Tell me now, cut the crap.”</em></p><p> </p><p>“I don’t want to freak you out, but I saw him in the audience tonight.”</p><p> </p><p>My heartbeat stops.</p><p> </p><p>Lance. In my audience. Listening to my music. My song. About him.</p><p> </p><p>“Lance McClain.” I stated dumbly.</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, that is his name, Keith.”</p><p> </p><p>“Was at our show?”</p><p> </p><p>They had to be joking.</p><p> </p><p>They nodded. “That’s usually what I mean when I say, ‘Lance was in the audience tonight,’ Keith.”</p><p> </p><p>“You’re sure?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, I saw him and his older sister, he was completely mesmerized so he didn’t see me wave, and I saw him leaving the building. He was there. I wouldn’t joke about that Keith.”</p><p> </p><p>Definitely not joking.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Shit.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>Lance's POV</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>It had to be about me, right? That was basically what happened in our relationship.</p><p>We were close, and ended on bad terms, haven’t spoken since high school, when I wore green religiously.</p><p> </p><p>So, it’s about me, right?</p><p> </p><p>So, he hasn’t forgotten me. But he’s over me. He hopes we’re still friends. But he’s over me.</p><p>So, do I have a chance? Probably not.</p><p>Would I be able to work up the courage to ask, even if I did? Again no.</p><p>Maybe I should try to reconnect with Hunk and Pidge. They were my best friends. I can’t believe I stopped talking to them.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Tears fall heavily down my face.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“guys it’s nothing I promise. I’ll be okay.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Dude, you and Keith have both been emotional and angsty for weeks, neither of you will talk to each other. It’s tearing our group apart.” Hunk says, and he’s right, but it still stings. It’s a sensitive subject, Keith and I.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I sigh.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I know, I’m just. Not ready to talk about it. Or to him. I’m sorry.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>They nod.</em>
</p><p><em>“okay, let us know when you are. I’m getting </em>real <em>tired of your shit, McClain.” Pidge says with their usual sass.</em></p><p>
  <em>I laugh weakly.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Thanks, Pigeon.”</em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>I never did talk to them much after that. I never talked to Keith either. We did the bare minimum, smallest of small talk, with as little interaction as possible. Anytime Pidge and hunk tried to bring it up I would very obviously avoid it.</p><p>It’s embarrassing to think about now, but it’s the only way I thought to cope.</p><p> </p><p>After we graduated, I kept in touch for a few months, until college really started up and we were all too busy to talk. Our friendship faded from there.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Maybe I can believe it.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>hmmm interesting. tysm for reading, as always leave suggestions or anything you have on your mind. And if it wasn't clear, Lance is saying maybe he can believe why he stopped talking to Pidge and Hunk. idk if i'll update again today, but we shall see. </p><p>Pls leave any questions, comments, concerns or emotional outbuts in the comments!!</p><p>until next time~<br/>~Ilene~</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Shut up, you're like, 12.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>so sorry it's taken me a bit to update, my teachers decided to give me like fifty assignments due on one day and it was NOT a vibe.</p><p>Hope you enjoy ;P</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The next day went… well, it went.</p><p>We mostly rested up from last nights performance and lounged around our apartments. We discussed new song to add to our sets, old ones to bring back, the usual.</p><p>Unfortunately for me though, my mind just kept wandering back to Lance.</p><p>Stupid, ridiculous, beautiful Lance.</p><p>Ugh! It had been five years! Without any mention of him, well for the most part, but we hadn’t seen him or heard from him. Nothing.</p><p>So why now, when I thought I had finally been rid of him forever. Why now does he choose to pop back into my life??</p><p>Overflowing with emotions I didn’t know what to do with, I turned to my favorite coping method.</p><p> </p><p>Writing music.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>LANCE</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>My alarm screamed at me to wake up, flashing bright colors you could probably see from Abuelita’s house in Cuba.</p><p>I groaned and roller over, slamming my hand onto the machine to shut it up, releasing a sigh when it finally quieted.</p><p>Sooner or later I got up for breakfast, my mama making fun of my late slumber, (It was only 10!!) and my siblings picking right along with her.</p><p>I rolled my eyes.</p><p>“Marco, shouldn’t you be in school? You’re like twelve.”</p><p>His jaw dropped to the floor, after all these years, it’s still funny to tease him about his age.</p><p>He was actually a freshman in college, but he could never know I knew that. He was in fifth grade still as far as I was concerned.</p><p>He squinted his eyes into a glare.</p><p>“Very funny Lance.”</p><p>I laughed to myself.</p><p>“Why thank you, I think so too. I'm quite the comedian." </p><p>Mama rolled her eyes at me, but other than that stayed out of the conversation. By now she knew we were messing around, and that interfering would ruin the fun. </p><p>“Well if Marco is twelve then you’re still seventeen Lance.” Said Veronica as she walked into the kitchen, already put together for the day of course.</p><p>I gave her a look.</p><p>“Very funny, V.”</p><p>Marco was in tears from laughter, grasping his stomach and shaking back in forth like he'd just heard the worlds funniest joke.</p><p>“It <em>really</em> is,” he wheezed out. “Up top Ronnie!” He held out his hand for a high-five.</p><p>She grabbed an apple from the fridge, ignoring his hand completely.</p><p>“Sorry <em>tonto</em>, I don’t give high-fives to twelve-year old's.”</p><p>And with that, she left.</p><p> </p><p>“Wasted.” I whispered to Marco, earning a glare in return.</p><p>Completely worth it, in my humble opinion.</p><p> </p><p>When breakfast was over, I went back to my room for some down time, still struggling to process last nights events.</p><p>My phone dinged in my pocket, so of course I open it to see what happened.</p><p>I was <em>not </em>expecting a message from Hunk, reading:</p><p>“<em>Hey bud, saw you at our gig last night, wanted to say hi but you were gone. We all miss you and want to catch up. Wanna come to our set tomorrow and hang afterwards?”</em></p><p> </p><p>My heart stopped.</p><p> </p><p>He wanted me to come see them again, and <em>t a l k</em>.</p><p>To <em>K e i t h</em>.</p><p>How could I say no? It was<em> Hunk!</em> A literal angel. I couldn’t say no to him.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>I had missed them.</p><p> </p><p>UGH. Fine. I’ll go, but <em>only</em> because of Hunk and Pidge. Definitely <strong>NOT</strong> for Keith.</p><p> </p><p>“<em>Yeah, of course buddy! :) Sorry I dipped last night, I meant to say hi but I was a little out of sorts :/”</em>  I send back, shutting my phone with a sigh.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>What the hell did I just get myself into???</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>what year is it with all these semicolon smilies and frowns lmao</p><p>As always, leave any questions, suggestions, comments, concerns, or emotional outbursts in the comments. Thank you for reading the latest chapter of Green, be sure to check out my other works (Theres more klaaaancce) and like and bookmark to let me know if y'all like this sort of fic! Another thank you to everyone who's left Kudos and bookmarked&lt;3<br/>Signing off for now~<br/>Ilene</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. The Performance</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Lance goes to their next performance, that's all you get sorry don't feel like writing a summary lmao.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hey Guys! I am soooo sorry to keep you waiting for the fifth chapter of Green. I've been pretty busy both at home and at dance (We had a socially distanced performance, yes it was weird.) and on top of that I've had some major writing block and I've been trying to write this chapter since before I posted the last. :) </p><p>(kmn) </p><p>Anywho, it's finally here! and sorry for any grammar mistakes and the fact that I kept writing "last night," when referring to the last concert. I should've checked before I finished the chapter but I didn't and now it's well past 12 and I don't wanna edit it. Maybe i'll fix it this week but tbh no promises. </p><p>(Edit- i fixed it and all the past chapters mistakes )</p><p>Also!!! language warning!! Keith has a potty mouth but do we blame him? Fuck no.</p><p>Enjoy this next installment of Green!!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I wiped down the creases from my old shirt, the white and blue baseball tee I’d often worn during senior year. I had almost adorned the faded, “Galran Empire,” shirt. The deep crimson shirt had been worn so much you could barely make out the old 80’s bands’ logo. Now, the only markings left were a few black smudges and faded lines where the pattern used to be.</p><p>I decided not to wear it, it seemed weird to show up in said shirt, kept quite “worn and red,” like in the song. It would be like walking in with a sign that says; “<em>Hey! I know that super gay and personal song you wrote is about me and I’m being really obvious and insensitive about it!!!!” </em></p><p>So, old baseball tee it is. </p><p> </p><p>“I can’t believe you’re making me do this.”</p><p>Veronica looked at me in a way only older sisters could, saying: “<em>I know you did not just say that,”</em> without even speaking.</p><p>“Lance, <em>you’re</em> the one who said yes, not me. I wasn’t a part of this.”</p><p>I rolled my eyes. “yeah whatever, same thing.”</p><p>I heard her mutter, “It’s really not, bub,” but I felt like living today, so I didn’t comment.</p><p>Ignoring Veronica’s sass, I grabbed my standard green bomber jacket, keys, wallet and phone, and left for the bar.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>KEITH</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>“Okay. Let me get this straight. Pidge, you want to bring back, “<em>Real People,</em>” you know, the song I wrote <em>in high school</em>, for tonight’s show?”</p><p>They looked as if they were completely innocent and hadn’t just suggested the worst possible idea, or, better yet, that they didn’t even realize the awful-ness of the idea.</p><p><br/>“Yeah. I miss playing it, and it sounds fun. You got a problem with that?” They scrolled on their phone with one headphone in. A total bitch move, if you asked me.</p><p>This was <em>me</em> we were talking about, there was no way any of this would end well.</p><p>“Pidge, don’t—”</p><p>“I think it’s a great idea!” Shiro always has impeccable timing, doesn’t he?</p><p>“Ooh! Me too!” Hunk looked up from his spot on the couch where he sat snacking, just to gang up against me.</p><p>Thanks bud.</p><p>“See Keith? Everyone agrees!” Pidge had that evil little smirk, I knew better than to fight it, but this was one thing I wasn’t giving up on easily.</p><p>“But—”</p><p>“I mean we could always play the song you wrote yesterday, which you’d have to do solo because no one else knows it yet, <strong>or!!</strong> We could play <em>another</em> throwback to high school, “<em>I Wish You Liked Boys—</em>"</p><p>“Nope! We’ll play the song. Jeeze.” My turn to cut them off. Another complete bitch move, we do <strong>NOT</strong> bring up that song.</p><p>Oh, how I wish I could smack the smug look off of their face, but alas, I would most definitely be murdered. Both by Pidge themselves and everyone else in the room.</p><p>With the way this night may end up, not the worst possible outcome. Maybe I’ll keep it as Plan K.</p><p> </p><p><em>K</em> for <strong>K</strong>ill <strong>K</strong>eith. <em>(Please)</em></p><p> </p><p>Shiro popped back into the room.</p><p>“Hey everyone! Load up! We need to leave in five to get there on time.”</p><p>I groaned.</p><p> </p><p>Here goes nothing.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>LANCE</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>When I arrived, I was greeted by Hunk. It was only five or so minutes before the show, so everyone else was already backstage, and soon he followed suit.</p><p>I ordered myself a drink from the bar and headed to the front, where apparently, I had my own table.</p><p>I found it easily enough, it was smack-dab in the front middle of the crowd and had a sign on the seat that read: <em>“Lancelot’s Only.”</em></p><p> </p><p>Thanks Pidgeon.</p><p> </p><p>Rolling my eyes, I took a seat. Not even a minute after, the lights faded and an announcer brought Voltron onto the stage.</p><p>They started out with the same song “In a Crown,” as last time, making me believe it would be pretty similar their last performance, so I tried to sit back and relax.</p><p> </p><p>Unfortunately for me, it wasn’t that easy. Keith was right in front of me. And I mean <em>RIGHT</em>  in front of me. The stage was elevated a few feet, so that if I didn’t lift my head, I would be staring right at his lower abs and chest. Not that I’d noticed he had either or looked purposely, but the black tank top he was wearing under his red leather jacket didn’t leave much to the imagination.</p><p>I tried to avoid the problem entirely by looking at Hunk and Pidge, and even Shiro on the occasion, but when one of them would get closer to Keith, there was no solution.</p><p> </p><p>The next song was a bit softer, not what had come next last night, but it was still good. I mean, of course it was good, my friends had written it.</p><p>According to Hunk, who announced after the song was over, it was called “<em>Rules</em>,” the next song was titled, “<em>Canyon Moon,</em>” another one I remembered from the previous night.</p><p>Soon enough the song was nearly over and my drink nearly empty. I stood and ordered myself a re-fill, and by the time I’d returned to my seat, a familiar intro began.</p><p> </p><p>“<em>Green</em>,” again.</p><p> </p><p>Yay me.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>I focused on the lyrics, hoping they would tell me I was being dramatic, and that the song definitely wasn’t about me.</p><p> </p><p>But alas, the words were the same as I’d remembered.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Shit.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>KEITH</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>We settled into position and the light in the room fell, sending a hush through the crowd. It was my favorite part of performing, the quiet anticipation of the moments to come.</p><p>I closed my eyes, breathing in slowly, feeling the air fill my lungs and calm my beating heart. My eyes closed as I exhaled, opening once more with my inhale. Feeling ready, I give the audience a smirk, beginning the opening riff of our first song.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Sooner or later, we made it to Green. The crowd had been great the night before, so I had confidence this one would receive it just as well. There was one thing, well, one <em>person</em>,  giving me hesitation though.</p><p> </p><p>Lance.</p><p> </p><p>He was front and center. And he’d been here last night.</p><p>Surely, he’d figured out it was about him. And if he didn’t figure it out before, he would definitely would now. And I had to talk to him afterwards. All because Hunk just <em>had</em> to invite him back. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Fuck.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>I had to stop thinking about him during performances.</p><p> </p><p>I closed my eyes, shook out my arms, and refocused.</p><p> </p><p>After giving my usual, “<em>Here’s this super cool new song we wrote, hope you like it as much as us!!</em>” spiel, we began playing.</p><p>I couldn’t help but notice a particular Cuban in the front the whole song, but I did my best to ignore him. (<em>a g a i n</em>)</p><p> </p><p>Thankfully, the song ended pretty quickly, and we were on to the next one.</p><p> </p><p>“<em>Maniac</em>,” was one I’d written my freshman year of college, making it a whole five years old. It feels like yesterday when I was 19, sitting alone after a particularly nasty breakup with some upperclassman who I never should’ve dated in the first place, and writing this song, playing it with tear stains running down my face and neck.</p><p> </p><p>Kind of sad now that I think about it.</p><p> </p><p>It’s since become one of my favorites to play anytime I’m feeling stressed or lonely or angry and everything in-between.</p><p>Maybe we’ll record it and put it on an album one day, but for now, I’d like to keep it all to myself. And the occasional performance in which Lance McClain appears at and sends all sorts of feelings I thought had died a long time ago back up to the surface.</p><p>Focusing again, lights narrowed in on me with the rest of the room in a darker shadow than before, I began.</p><p>
  <em>“You were with your friends, partying, when the alcohol kicked in. Said you wanted me dead</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“So, you show up at my home, all alone, with a shovel and a rose.”</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Sadly, a true(ish) story.</p><p> </p><p>“<em>Do you think I’m a joke? Cause people like you always want back what they can’t have, but I’m past that, and you know that, so you should turn back to your rat pack, tell them I’m trash.”</em></p><p> </p><p>I wish the “bitch” I’d wanted to add in there at the end would’ve worked out. Really would've added more flavor to the music.</p><p> </p><p>“<em>Tell all of your friends that I’m crazy and drive you mad, that I’m such a stalker, a watcher, a psychopath.</em></p><p>
  <em>“And tell them you hate me and dated me just for laughs.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“so, why do you call me, and tell me, you want me back? You Maniac!!”</em>
</p><p>He really was a bastard, he pressured me into all sorts of things and wanted me to be there for him 25/8 and then was never there for me and told me to suck it up. Told me my music thing would never work out, that no one would listen to me.</p><p> </p><p>Well, here’s to you. You were wrong, so suck it. Look at me now.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Bitch.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>tysm for reading!! I promise to try to write more and update soon, but writers block is a bitch so we'll see.</p><p>Do y'all read these? tbh I don't all the time so I don't blame you, but if you do please leave and comments, questions concerns or emotional outbursts in the comments, and if you like it please be sure to leave a kudos and a bookmark so you can follow along with our oblivious bois.</p><p>I've been thinking of writing some other fandoms? like bnha? pls lemme know y'alls thoughts.</p><p>im pretty sure every ex-Voltron fan now watches or reads bnha, as well as many other people but let me know id you'd be interested in that!</p><p>Until next time, signing off for now</p><p>~Ilene</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Umm...Hi?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>the aftermath of the performance</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>okay I need to stop updating at 2 am lmao.</p><p>anyways heres chapter six, I had a burst of inspiration and low key hyper-fixated on finishing today, so here we are.</p><p>TW!! mentions of alcohol and drunkeness!!</p><p>they're all like 25 btw, and Pidge is like 22 since theyre younger, so there is no underaged drinking</p><p>also I remember a part I needed to edit but now I can't find it, hopefully i'll remember to fix it later when i'm more awake, but for now im so sorry. (edit: it's fixed)</p><p>and in case it's just my family, we say you're "Number one" instead of flicking someone off, that's what I meant by a number one hand gesture lol.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The lights flickered back on, the crowd dispersing back to the dance floor or to the bar, leaving me sitting there dumb, staring at the now dark and empty stage.</p><p>Thank the stars above that they hadn’t ended with “<em>Green</em>”, or the other song, “<em>Maniac</em>”. It was hard enough returning to Earth from Lance-Land after the performance, even though they ended with one of their “party,” songs, “<em>Feel’s Like Home.</em>”</p><p>To be fair, “<em>Maniac</em>,” had caught me by surprise. Was it about me? I hope not. I never did any of those things he sung about. Plus, we never dated.</p><p>Who could it be about? Probably someone from college, or somewhere else who I didn’t know. I have been avoiding him since senior year… I’ve missed a lot, haven’t I?</p><p>I slowly stood up, turning to walk towards what I would assume was the entrance to backstage, since Hunk had left through there earlier, but I ran straight into Pidge.</p><p>“Hey! Watch it!” They exclaimed loudly, punching me lightly on the arm.</p><p>I laughed it off, rubbing where they’d hit.</p><p>“Sorry, Pidgeon, didn’t see you down there.” I smirked a little at my short joke. If they were anything like high school Pidge, they’d hate it.</p><p>The glare and “number one,” hand motion I received told me they felt exactly the same about height jokes, making me laugh a bit harder than I should have, seeing as I could be murdered any second by Pidge.</p><p>They scoffed, though I could see a small smile slipping through the mask of irritation.</p><p>Grabbing my arm, they dragged me towards the door.</p><p> </p><p>“This way, dumbass.” Ah, sweet, kind Pidge. </p><p> </p><p>Behind the door was a hallway, which broke off into many other doors and hallways, but the one we entered was the door far back on the right.</p><p> </p><p>In what I assumed was their dressing room, the left wall held a counter and chairs with an appropriately lengthed mirror with those exposed lightbulbs above that gave off Hollywood vibes. At one of the vanity spots in the back corner sat Keith, on his phone ignoring the rest of us. Behind him on the back wall was an armchair that held Shiro, who was fiddling with his guitar.</p><p>When he saw us, he gave a small smile, which relieved me, since I got the impression he hated me for hurting Keith like I did.</p><p>On the wall opposite of the mirror and doors, was a plush grey couch with sheets of music scattered on both the unoccupied cushions and the coffee table in front of it. Hunk sat on the couch reading through some of the music, but stood up and grinned when he saw Pidge and I.</p><p>He greeted me with a hug and a; “hey dude! Did you like the show?”</p><p>I hugged him back and laughed a bit. “Yeah man! It was great! Nothing but the best from my buddies!”</p><p>He put a hand over his heart and faked an emotional face. “Bro!”</p><p>“Bro!”</p><p>“Brooo!!” we finished in sync and went in for one of those “man hugs” that frat boys did.</p><p>Pidge just shoved past us on their way to the couch and muttered, “boys.”</p><p>Shiro laughed quietly from his seat, and Keith had turned to face us and had a stupidly cute smirk on his face. They were probably making fun of Hunk and I. Oh well, wouldn’t be the first time.</p><p>“Hey Shiro, it’s been a while.” I walked closer to shake his hand, which seemed a bit formal but for some reason, Shiro was just one of those people you can’t help but be intimidated by. Even if you’d seen him ugly cry when Bambi’s mom died.</p><p>He smiled again and nodded in agreement, which almost made me sigh in relief that he didn’t break my hand off.</p><p> </p><p>Then I turned to Him.</p><p>I nodded and gave what I hoped was a friendly smile.</p><p>“hey.”</p><p>He looked about as awkward as I felt. “Hey,” he lifted his arm from where they were crossed as he said this.</p><p>I slowly backed up to Hunk and Pidge, who, bless their souls, changed the subject for me.</p><p>“So!” Hunk started, turning to the shorter one as he forgot where he was going with his announcement.</p><p>“SO,” Pidge said, dragging out the “O.” “We were thinking we’d order some form of take out or pizza and head to our apartments to drink, eat and catch up? Sound good <em>Leandro</em>?”</p><p>“Yeah! Sounds great! What kind of food were you all thinking? You just performed, plus I don’t really have a preference.”</p><p>I really didn’t have a preference. I mean I <em>was</em> craving sushi, but I wasn’t going to be a bother. Not when I was already un-welcome by half of the hosties.</p><p>“We were gonna order sushi.” Keith stated, making me feel like that was what would happen if I wanted it or not.</p><p>“Unless you’d rather have Chinese or pizza or something else.” Hunk finished.</p><p>“No! Sushi sounds great, actually!” I wasn’t lying, but I probably would’ve if Keith had said anything else.</p><p>“Great!” Shiro said, standing up, stretching his back and gathering his things. “Let’s get going then.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>KEITH</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>Lance had ended up riding here in his own car with Pidge and Hunk as backseat drivers for directions to our apartments, leaving Shiro and I alone in the van Hunk owned solely for driving the band and equipment around.</p><p>Luckily for me, he didn’t mention the awkwardness around Lance and I, only about the show tonight and new songs.</p><p>Now though, we sat around Shiro and I’s apartment, finishing up our Sushi, drinking our beers. (or, in Shiro and Hunk’s case, red wine and gin and tonic respectively.)</p><p>The conversation had been friendly, I sat on the right side of the couch, with Shiro at the other end, Pidge leaning against one of our armchairs, sitting on the floor and using an ottoman as a table. Lance sat at the edge of the carpet, closer to our tv, but still close enough to use the coffee table as his table, and Hunk sat on the other armchair like the civilized person he was.</p><p>Lance and Pidge did a few rounds of shots, they even got me to do one or two with them, which was when Hunk and Shiro once again made the smart decision to retire early.</p><p>The both of them only had one glass each, since Shiro had to work at his daytime job tomorrow, and Hunk said he had to be able to “Take care of your sorry asses when you’re hungover tomorrow.” So off to bed they went. At 11 o’clock.</p><p>I was slowly sipping on a glass of water, Shiro was right after all. When I tried to remind this to the two idiots, they only told me I was a buzzkill and told me <em>where</em> I could put that water.</p><p> </p><p>Sooner or later Pidge dozed off against the chair, empty cup in hand, leaving Lance and I to carry them to their bed across the hall.</p><p>When we returned to my apartment, I had enough sense to bring out a pillow and blanket for Lance. He could sleep on the couch this one night, especially since he was far too drunk to drive himself home. And it was nearing 4 am. </p><p>I was about to retire to my room after giving both of us some aspirin and water in preparation of tomorrow, when I heard a soft, “Hey Keith,” from where Lance sat on the couch.</p><p>I turned back to face him, barely able to make out his silhouette in the darkness. “Yeah?”</p><p>“’m sorry. For everything I’ve said and done to you, ever since high school. I was a jerk, and you deserved better. Thanks for tonight, I don’t deserve you.”</p><p>His figured slumped over on the couch with a soft, ‘thud,’ and seconds later I hear his breath evening out.</p><p>I smiled a little to myself, feeling heat rise in my face and a fluttering in my stomach that wouldn’t leave me alone.</p><p>I shook my head and turned back to my room.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>I looked back once more, with my hand on my door handle, eyes focusing through the pitch black silence that covered the room on the rise and fall of the boy’s chest. On the way his mouth hung open and a thin sliver of drool threatened to drip out. How peaceful he looked, and how much I'd missed him these years.</p><p> </p><p>“Thanks, Lance.</p><p> </p><p>“Sleep well.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>tysm for reading! as always, comment kudos and bookmark if you enjoyed it! stay safe y'all</p><p>until next time</p><p>~ilene</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. This is. Fine.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>yeah&lt;3</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>IM SO SORRY FOR NOT POSTING FOR LIKE TEN YEARS OMG</p><p>I just had like the worst depressive episode ever lol, i mean i still do but i also had the worst writers block i've ever had and that just sucked so bad. But i FINALLY finished this chapter and im working on the next one, and even though i started back at school (online) and dance, i hope to update more regularly (maybe ill make a schedule???) </p><p>anyways i binged Avatar: the last airbender in a week, since id never seen it. Then when korra came onto netflix i binged that in like four days (still mad all we got of korrasami was them holding hands) and I ALSO binged She-Ra in like two days and i'm still not over season five. I don't think i ever will be. I am currently rewatching and crying everytime Catra is on the screen. </p><p>anywho enjoy the chapter!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I heard soft chatter in the background as my mind slowly drifted back to reality. Not even a second later, a pounding headache hit me like a shit ton of bricks, sending a wave of pain from my scalp to my feet.</p><p>I groaned and slammed my head back into the throw pillow I’d slept on. This is what I get for doing shots with Pidge.</p><p>“Morning <em>Lancey</em>, regretting your decisions?” Shiro teased, having been one of the responsible one’s last night and not getting completely shit faced.</p><p>“Shouldn’t you be at work by now?” I managed to get out, rolling onto my back and slowly opening my eyes to the blinding morning light.</p><p>He laughed and took a sip of his coffee. (Probably black, knowing Shiro.)</p><p>“Nope, I leave in an hour for my shift at 12. But I’m glad you’re so eager to spend more time with me today, Lance.”</p><p>I rolled my eyes, which wasn’t very smart since it made me momentarily blind from plain.</p><p>“You know what I meant.”</p><p> </p><p>Hunk chuckled to himself as he fiddled around with pans and whatever he was cooking in the kitchen. Watching him move around, grabbing things from cabinets and drawers without hesitation told me<br/>this wasn’t his first time cooking here Shiro and Keith’s.</p><p>“Food’s ready if you wanna come get some, Lance.” He said, holding up a spatula full of bacon, as if to prove that there was indeed, food ready.</p><p>“Thanks buddy, but I don’t know if I can walk right now so maybe in a minute.”</p><p>It was true, I didn’t have much feeling in my legs, the alcohol still coursing through my veins.</p><p>Both Shiro and Hunk laughed.</p><p>“Want me to bring you a cup of coffee?” Shiro kindly offered.</p><p>I attempted to sit up, struggling a lot more than I would’ve liked to admit.</p><p>“Yes, please.”</p><p>He got up to start me my own mug, and I sat there, leaning against the arm of the couch, the pillow I’d used to sleep on in my lap, feeling like a sick child waiting for my Mama and Papa to bring me<br/>Gatorade and soup.</p><p>Only instead of Gatorade and soup it was coffee, eggs and toast.</p><p>I thanked them both when they brought me the goods, my face flushed with embarrassment that I was so useless. I was also thanking every star in the galaxy that Pidge wasn’t up or sober enough to get blackmail pictures of this.</p><p>“I’ll go see if sleeping beauty is up yet.” Shiro said, and I almost commented that I already was, but he stepped into Keith’s room and the words died in my throat.</p><p>I sipped slowly on my coffee, only to chug some more once I realized how much I wanted it. I also took a bite of the toast and eggs, not wanting my stomach to cause a riot.</p><p>“So,” I began, “what time is it?”</p><p>“Nearly ten, why? Did you guys go to bed two hours ago or did you actually get some sleep?”</p><p>I scoffed, acting offended that he would suggest such a thing. (Even though the three of us pulled many all-nighters back in high school)</p><p>“We went to bed…” I paused to do the mental math. (I we went to bed at four and it’s ten now, four plus four is eight, plus two is ten. And two plus four is six, so it was...) “Six hours ago, for your information.”</p><p>“Wow. That’s sooo much better. I’m impressed.” His voice dripped in sarcasm, but I chose to ignore it.</p><p>“Well not all of us want to go to bed at ten thirty every day.”</p><p>“Sorry for wanting to live a healthy lifestyle, Lance.”</p><p>“Ladies, Ladies, you’re both pretty.” Shiro said, walking into the room.</p><p>“Now Shut. Up.” Keith followed shortly after.</p><p>“Good morning to you too, Keithy Boy.” I retorted.</p><p>All I got in response was a groan, but hey, beggars can’t be choosers.</p><p> </p><p>Soon after that, we said goodbye to Shiro, who went off to his daytime job as a personal trainer and settled in to eat our breakfasts.</p><p>After eating, Hunk gave Keith and I more Advil and sent us off to go check on Pidge, who was definitely in far worse shape than we had been.</p><p>They were lying passed out on the bathroom floor, a throw pillow sat in the bathtub with a spilt ginger ale leaking down to the drain. Wet and dry rags were strewn about the countertop and sink.</p><p>Somewhere, most likely on the counter, was Pidge’s phone, playing “Watcha Say,” by Jason Derulo. Knowing Pidge, it was probably on replay.</p><p>I turned to Keith, who was still surveying the damage in the room.</p><p>“Do you think they’re awake?” I whispered, crouching down to their level to get closer.</p><p>He shrugged in response so, praying to anything that would listen I <em>wouldn’t</em> die by Pidge, I leaned down and rubbed their shoulder.</p><p>“Lance Charles McClain you take your hand and put it back by your side or I will rip it off your body and shove it so far up your ass your fingers will poke though your eyeballs.”</p><p> </p><p>How the hell they came up with that creative of a threat while so very hungover, I would never know, but at this moment, all I cared about was pulling my hand away from the terrifying gremlin that we knew as Pidge.</p><p> </p><p>Drawing my arm back to safety and crossing it over my chest with my other protectively, I stood back up and moved behind the door frame.</p><p>“right, uhm. Keith?” I turned it on him and lost all confidence. You know, like a man.</p><p>Laughing lightly, he moved closer down to their level on the floor.</p><p>“We come bearing more liquids and Advil, as well as the knowledge that Hunk just fixed us a very wonderful breakfast full of foods to help hangover, if you’re hungry.”</p><p>They groaned and adjusted position on the floor, “I’m not hungover, I’m better than you pansies. I know how to hold my liquor,” they tried to sit up, but promptly retched into the toilet.</p><p>I sighed and grabbed one of the rags, rinsed it and handed it back to them, while Keith pulled their hair back into a small ponytail and handed them a cup of water to rinse with.</p><p>Keith set the pills on the counter and backed away, myself right behind him.</p><p>“I’ll just leave that here…”</p><p>“And I’ll send Hunk in a minute to help you clean up and get re-situated.” I said as we exited the apartment.</p><p> </p><p>A sigh of relief escaped my lungs the second we stepped back into Keiths’ place.</p><p>“Are they always this bad when they’re hungover?”</p><p>Keith turn to sigh now. “Unfortunately for us, yes. They are.”</p><p> </p><p>Lovely.</p><p> </p><p>We returned to the other apartment, Keith and I slumping down onto our respective couches, still feeling like shit.</p><p>“The usual?” Hunk asked, piling food onto a plate, and grabbing a glass, presumably made for Pigeon.</p><p>Keith tilting his head to the side so his voice wouldn’t be muffled, said, “You bet.” Before shifting back to faceplant in the couch.</p><p>Hunk sighed and told us to “scream if we need anything,” and as soon as he left the room, I groaned and sat up.</p><p>I don’t really know why I did this, but the anxiety that came after, yelling at me for being so weird, couldn’t actually do anything so I just let it go. Or at least I tried. I didn’t help when Keith sat up to stare at me.</p><p>After an uncomfortably long time, I cleared my throat and asked if he needed anything.</p><p>He shook his head no, so we both went back to staring. Only this time it was at everything but each other.</p><p> </p><p>We stayed quiet like that for what felt like fifty thousand years, until Keith, completely out of the blue, bust out laughing.</p><p>It started with a small laugh, then grew into him rolling his head back, laughing so hard I felt compelled to join.</p><p>Next thing I knew, we were both out of breath, holding our stomachs and trying to douse the new flames of laughter that appeared.</p><p>I turned towards his end of the couch. “Would you—uh, hm. Would you mind telling me what, ah, is so damn funny?”</p><p>He shook his head, loose strips of hair dangling out of his ponytail, and turned towards me with a gleam I haven’t seen in his eye since the beginning of senior year.</p><p> </p><p>“Nothing, I uh—”</p><p> </p><p>“It was clearly something, <em>Keithey-Boy</em>.” I teased, earning a playful glare in return.</p><p> </p><p>“Well, I, ahem, was just thinking about the last time we were alone together.”</p><p>His voice got softer as he finished the sentence, and the mood of the room changed drastically.</p><p> </p><p>Thoughts of the lake, the red shirt, the, well, <em>that</em> and the concert and <em>Keith</em> flooded my head.</p><p> </p><p>I swallowed, though it was extremely difficult with sandpaper for a throat, and nodded my head.</p><p>“And also, how much everything has changed.” Keith's voice stayed soft, but the awkwardness lessened. I could feel the tension melt away. If only my heart rate would get the memo.</p><p>“Yeah.” I turned to face him again and our eyes met. They were still a dazzling blue/grey, a storm covering the sky, waves crashing against smoothed rocks, worm from time. “I mean, who would’ve guessed you, the boy who had trouble presenting to the class, would be able to perform in huge crowds.”</p><p> </p><p>A beat of silence, our eyes still connected.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m proud of you, man.” I broke it.</p><p>I couldn’t look in his eyes as I said something so honest.</p><p>He was silent, so I glanced back out of fear, and saw him in the same spot. Now though, his soft smile was matched with a red tint on his face I was sure wasn’t just remnants of the alcohol in his veins.</p><p>“Thanks, Lance. I’m…. proud of you too.”</p><p>I laughed; my face still sore from earlier but unable to be contained. “For what? I didn’t do much. I went to college, got a degree that can’t get me any good jobs. I have to go back next year, I’m unemployed. And I ghosted you for five years.”</p><p>“That’s true, but, you came back. You’re here with me now, hungover from a lame afterparty for one of our concerts. And you just said a lot of things I know for sure Senior-Year-Lance would never in a million years admit. So, I’m proud of you.”</p><p> </p><p>Our eyes met again, only this time I was sure we teleported. I was so close to him I could count each individual eyelash. My heartbeat picked up even more, and I tried my hardest not to look down at his lips. I failed, thinking about not doing it only made me do it. I should know myself by now.</p><p> </p><p>“You still have a mullet.” My stupid little dumb pea-brain stammered out.</p><p> </p><p>“Wha—uh. What?”</p><p> </p><p>A small chuckle escaped my lips. Might as well roll with it. “You still have a mullet.”</p><p> </p><p>He rolled his eyes so hard I thought they would fall out.</p><p> </p><p>“Really? This? <em>Again</em>?” He said, accentuating the “<em>ain</em>,” in again.</p><p>I responded with another laughing fit, and soon enough, we were both in tears again.</p><p> </p><p>~~~</p><p> </p><p>I woke up groggy, switched my head position to the other half of my face, and nuzzled back into my pillow.</p><p>It was great, I was happy, well rested and I couldn’t even feel the hangover anymore.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>That is, until my pillow cuddled back.</p><p>Pillows don’t wrap their arms around your waist and upper back.</p><p>Pillows don’t have hair to rest against your hands, and they also don’t have a nape of their neck where said hands rest.</p><p>They don’t have legs for you to lay in between, and they certainly don’t have a chest for you to rest your head on.</p><p>Or a heartbeat that lulls you back to sleep.</p><p> </p><p>This is a person.</p><p> </p><p>....shit.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>tysm for reading the latest chapter of "green!" The next one is already in the works (If it isn't already released!) </p><p>If you're interested, here's a link to all the songs i have used in this AU and plan to use. i listen to this when i write, as well as my other geeky playlists ("cmv songs..." and "fandom feels" lol) my user is "illene," and the playlist is "green," if the link doesn't work. I can also make a youtube playlist if you don't have a spotify and would like to listen, (or i'll post the list i have if you'd rather that!) </p><p>https://open.spotify.com/playlist/074lfI8SMwkG8jyAFsigxQ?si=P2zvF_3DReqLXc8cUcz4Dw</p><p>Please leave a kudos, bookmark or follow if you like the story, and check out my other works if you'd like! As always, comment any questions, critiques, concerns or emotional outbursts you have! </p><p>Thank you!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Passing time</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>so.</p><p>yeah&lt;3</p><p>idk just read it lol i suck at summaries</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I felt something move on my chest, waking me with a start. Though, I wasn’t worried. I was on the couch in my own apartment, so I figured I’d just sleep again. I’d already slept off my hangover, and no one was in the room but me.</p><p>Oh, and Lance, of course. He’s still asleep on my chest.</p><p>Wait.</p><p>My eyes shot open, and sure enough, there was Lance, cuddling me. Laying in between my legs. Oh God. Oh<em> Dear Good Fucking World.</em> <strong>Lovely</strong>. <em>Perfect. <strong>Amazing.</strong></em></p><p>As if on que, Lance shoots up and scrambles off.</p><p>I sat up and tried to form coherent thoughts. (It did NOT work.)</p><p> </p><p>“Umm.”</p><p>“So-"</p><p>“That…”</p><p>“Yeah.” I sighed</p><p>Okay, well. <em>That</em> happened.</p><p>“We were still drunk.”</p><p>“Yeah.” I agreed, standing up next to him.</p><p>“And tired, nothing really happened.” He said, voice cracking slightly on the “<em>Really</em>.”</p><p>“Nope.”</p><p> </p><p>Silence.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>“Can I heat up the leftovers from breakfast? I’m starving again.”</p><p>I laughed at the sheer randomness of the question, before helping the poor idiot find his way in my kitchen.</p><p> </p><p>Soon enough, Lance had his second breakfast, and I sat in my couch chair, guitar in hand and notebook.</p><p>Just because Lance was here, didn’t mean I had to <em>not</em> work on music. Though, I wouldn’t be working on anything about him while he was here. I already felt bad enough for the nap incident. I mean nothing against falling asleep with your friends, but Lance and I already had such an awkward history, I didn’t want to ruin it when we only just started talking again.</p><p>He was straight, and I was over him.</p><p>We were cool. It didn’t mean anything. We were drunk, hungover and tired. No matter how comfortable it was or how that was the best sleep I’d gotten in a while. Nope. Just guys being friends, sleeping after a long night of drinking.</p><p>“Any requests?” I was half joking; I didn’t even think he’d be able to come up with a song. But there he was, barely a second later, mouth full of toast, saying; “Real People.”</p><p>It was almost weird that he remembered one of our unreleased songs, but he did hear it last night, so I guess not.</p><p> </p><p>Not one to refuse a request, I plucked out the opening chords.</p><p> </p><p>~time skip~</p><p> </p><p>“hmmmmm….” I arched my back to look up at Keith from his floor.</p><p>He sat with one leg tucked under himself and the other hanging off his bed, waiting patiently for me to answer with another song request.</p><p> </p><p>We’d been hanging out a lot more in the past few months, it started on accident after that first night, when we’d spent the whole day together, goofing off and reminiscing. Then it seemed every time I’d come over, it would either be only Keith available, or it would soon be just him.</p><p>It probably should’ve been awkward, us hanging out together so much, but after the first few times it felt more natural than breathing. Although, whenever someone mentions how cute of a couple, we both freeze, and Keith is the first to say we’re just friends, myself following right after.</p><p>It hurts a bit, I won’t lie, but he’s long over me, and I’m trying to do the same.</p><p>“Your favorite fifties song.”</p><p>Though I’d returned my stare to it’s place on the ceiling, I could feel his glare in the back of my head.</p><p>“Lance. You know damn well I don’t listen to fifties music. Why not eighties, or hell, even seventies if you’re going oldies??”</p><p>I shrugged, feeling the pull of a smirk on my face. “I like messing with you.”</p><p>He huffed and paused for a second, maybe pulling up chords or a playlist with fifties music to use.</p><p>A second later, I heard the soft beginnings of music.</p><p>Once I realized what the song was, I melted into the floor, closing my eyes and enjoying the music.</p><p> </p><p>It was “Lonesome Town,” by Ricky Nelson, my favorite song.</p><p> </p><p>I tried to convince my brain that he hadn’t remembered it was my favorite, and that it was pure coincidence, but it didn’t stop the heat rushing to my face.</p><p>His cover was beautiful. To be fair, all of them were, but this one was especially wonderful. It wasn’t quite a love song, but it was close. The melody was slow, and comforting, like a cup of tea and curling up on the couch after a long day.</p><p>Keith’s version, though, was if someone gave you a journal filled with all your best memories, looking through it and feeling so much love and warmth in your heart you think it might explode.</p><p> </p><p>Or maybe that was just Keith.</p><p> </p><p>Then again, I couldn’t care less.</p><p> </p><p>~~~</p><p> </p><p>“What’d you think?”</p><p>My fingers were stinging and shaking, both from the strings and nerves. It’s a wonder I was able to get through the whole song without a slip up.</p><p>I looked across the bed to Lance, his eyes wide and mouth slightly agape in.... shock? Wonder? I couldn’t tell.</p><p>“Dude.” Was all he said. No help, I still have no clue how he feels. </p><p>I felt my chest contract in on itself and my face scrunch up in hesitation. “Yeah?”</p><p>“I—” He shook his head and rubbed his hands over his face before settling them back against his lap. “Dude. That’s—” A pause. “—So good!! How come you haven’t released that?”</p><p>I laughed awkwardly, even at 24 years old I didn’t know how to receive a compliment properly.</p><p>“Thanks, man.” My hand reached up to rub at the base on my neck and through my scalp. “I’m not gonna release it, though. I don’t ever play it, not even for the rest of the gang really. It’s… too personal to let the world have, I guess.”</p><p>He nodded, gaze falling down to his twiddling thumbs and crisscrossed seating position.</p><p>“Yeah, I get that, but still, if you ever need another song on an album, I think it should be that one.”</p><p>“My opinion IS the most important, after all.” He had on his “<em>I know I just said something stupid and/or irritating and I am proud of it</em>” smirk, and despite how dumb it was, it made me laugh.</p><p>“Of course, I’ll add ‘<em>Antidote</em>,’ to the next album because Lance Charles McClain says so.”</p><p>He lifted his arms up in a way of saying, “<em>what can I say, I’m a genius.</em>” (An unsurprisingly common motion for him.)</p><p>I chose to ignore the rising blush on my face.</p><p>“You’re such an idiot.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>“Keith you have <em>got</em> to be kidding me right now.”</p><p>“No?? I told you, why would I lie about something like that, Lance?”</p><p>I sputtered. “Well—I don’t know but still!! You can’t just <em>drop</em> something on me like <em>that</em> and then <em>not care!!</em>”</p><p>“Lance I <em>just</em> said I was lactose intolerant? I eat ice cream anyways. And Pidge is too!! Yell at them!”</p><p>I sighed, and it was so deep I felt a bit of my soul leave too.</p><p>“Keith. Buddy. Bro. <em>Dude</em>. <em>Homie.</em> <strong>Amigo</strong>.”</p><p>“Are you done?”</p><p>“SHHH no interrupting. <strong><em>HUN</em></strong>—do you just. <em>Not</em> care about yourself?? Before you say of course, that’s not what I meant, and you know it. I’ve been taking you out for ice cream like once every two weeks for MONTHS now dude. Why didn’t you say anything? We could do something else, or go somewhere with sorbet? Something that’s NOT gonna kill you?”</p><p>He fiddled with his spoon and empty bowl of ice cream.</p><p>We were at our usual place; in our usual spot and he <em>only just</em> mentions how sick he’ll be tomorrow? What the hell.</p><p>“I don’t know, I just never thought to mention it. I don’t mind, we’ve been doing it for so long, and you get so happy. I didn’t think you’d get so upset.”</p><p>I felt heat rise in my face. “Of <em>course</em>, I care, dude! You’re <em>Keith.</em>”</p><p>He seemed slightly taken aback, so I opted to explain further.</p><p>“You’re one of my best friends and have been since freshman year and it’s a damn shame I didn’t realize it sooner. Dude, you’re amazing! You shouldn’t have done something for my sake, I wouldn’t ever want to make you sick or hurt you.” Oh, wait shit.</p><p>I did that.</p><p>Damn. Dumbass internalized-homophobe-high-school-Lance. You <em>suck.</em></p><p>“And I’m <span class="u"><em>really</em></span> sorry for every time I’ve hurt you in the past.” My tone softened as I admitted this, I knew I needed to say it sooner rather than later, but it was still awkward.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>“Thanks.”</p><p> </p><p>The silence had been broken, and I looked up to meet his soft hazel eyes, golden in the afternoon sun. His face was smooth and perfect. he looked so pretty I could scream.</p><p><br/>Opting instead to <em>not</em> do that, I smiled. The joy and warmth inside me was so much I felt like I would explode in a supernova of joy and love and <em>Keith</em>.</p><p> </p><p>~~~</p><p> </p><p>“Okay, let me get this straight. <em>You’ve</em> <strong>NEVER</strong> <em>played</em> <strong><em>MARIOKART</em></strong>????”</p><p>“LOOK!! WE OWNED IT AT ONE POINT BUT IT GOT <em>LOST</em> AND MAMA WOULDN’T BUY IT AGAIN AND THEN BY THE TIME WE <em>WERE</em> OLD ENOUGH TO EARN MONEY WE JUST DIDN’T GET IT.”</p><p>I sighed. “Lance Charles McClain. Get your ass over here were doing Rainbow Road.”</p><p> </p><p>“WHY ON<strong> EARTH</strong> WOULD YOU MAKE ME DO<em> THE HARDEST ONE</em> FIRST??? YOU’RE A CRUEL MAN, AKIRA KEITH KOGANE!!!”</p><p>I paused my laughing fit for a split second. “You remembered my first name?!”</p><p>“Dude of course, bUT THAT’S<strong><em> NOTHEPOINTRIGHTNOW!!!!!!</em></strong>”</p><p>I shook my head in exasperation, still laughing my ass off. “Okay, okay. I’ll apologize. But that was funny as shit, and <em>you</em> fell for it!”</p><p>He opened his mouth to make an objection, but all that came out was a strange strangled sound.</p><p>I repeated it back, mocking him. A smirk playing at my face.</p><p>He glared and made the noise back, now mocking me for mocking him. </p><p>We kept the back and forth going, until it was broken by laughter.</p><p>Lance collapsed on the floor next to me, his laugh clear as day.</p><p>What felt like hours later, we both breathed out our last giggles and our faces sat flushed close together.</p><p>My eyes met his, a deep ocean waves rolling over, suffocating me in his dark blue irises. The flecks of green was the seaweed, wrapping around my ankles and dragging me even deeper down.</p><p> </p><p>The worst part though, was that even though I was drowning, struggling and writhing under the water, as long as it was Lance, I didn’t mind.</p><p>"<em>Keith Steve</em> <em>Kogane</em> you did <em>NOT</em> just make yourself a milkshake we've had this talk."</p><p>He froze, back facing me, glass filled with chocolate milkshake that he should <em>NOT</em> be drinking.</p><p>Slowly turning towards me, he had an awkward, dorky little guilty smile. He <em>KNEW</em> he wasn't supposed to have milk <em>AND</em> that I would get onto him. He knew I cared, right?</p><p>"I just really craved one, okay?"</p><p>I gave him a soft glare.</p><p>"I took a lactate pill!"</p><p>I tried to fight at the small smile tugging at my lips, but it became impossible when he pulled out a second glass.</p><p>"I made you one too, I know how much you love them."</p><p>I tried to keep my emotions too myself, because if I showed what I was thinking, he'd freak out and leave. He was too cute, too sweet. His small little smile, he was so proud of himself, and frankly, I was too. </p><p>He was just too cute for his own good.</p><p> </p><p>~~~</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>We lied on the floor in his room, his head to my left and our legs facing opposite directions. I looked up at the stars on his ceiling, lost in thought. The silence between us was comforting, and I was glad we'd gotten close enough to be able to sit like this. It gave me a warm fuzzy feeling I didn't quite know what to do with.</p><p> </p><p>"Hey, Lance?"</p><p>"Yeah?" He turned to face me, face squished on the flood at an odd angle that definitely <em>WASN'T at ALL</em> cute.</p><p>"Why'd you call me <em>'Keith Steve Kogane,</em>' earlier? You know that's not my middle name."</p><p>He chuckled lightly to himself.</p><p>"You really wanna know?" I nodded, facing him too-ignoring how close we were and how I suddenly forgot how to breathe. "In all honesty, I just thought it'd be funny."</p><p>I laughed despite myself. "That's it? Really?"</p><p>He joined me. "Yeah, really."</p><p>His face was flushed, his freckles showing through the pale pink skin.</p><p>I'd almost forgotten how beautiful he was. He hadn't changed much from high school, but if anything, he was even more handsome now.</p><p>He furrowed his eyebrows and focused his gaze on me.</p><p>"What are you thinking about, Akira?"</p><p>I felt hat rush to my face and my soul practically leave my body. I never liked my first name, but coming from him, it sounded perfect.</p><p>So perfect in fact, I forgot to filter my response.</p><p>"You."</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>BONUS-- Lance's mind those last few seconds</p><p>Why did I ask that he looks embarrassed oh no I messed up oh lord--</p><p>"You."</p><p>*<em>Processing, hold please*</em></p><p>
  <em>*information downloaded, continue*</em>
</p><p>AHHHHHHHHHH PRETTY BOY THOUGHT ABOUT MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE</p><p>AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>i'm trying to finish this up, but i have school, dance six days a week and like no motivation most of the time but im actually kind of proud of myself? i have a whole ass plan for this and i figured out how many chapters itll have and other info thats *spoilers* but of course i get my crap together and get hit with *writers block* </p><p>Anyways im trying, and also thinking very much of doing something bnha (or another show- im up for suggestions)</p><p>Thanks for reading! as always, leave any questions, concerns or emotional outbursts in the comments, until next time<br/>~ilene</p>
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<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Oh. *softly* oh. *pause* 0H</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>hehehe</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>LANCE</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>My breath mixed with his, our faces mere inches apart. The music was pounding, and people were screaming. The patrons of the club were far from quiet as they talked and danced wildly in a drunken stupor.</p><p>But all I could hear was the slow inhales and exhales we took, his movements and the way my heart was beating so loud I thought it would jump right out of my chest.</p><p>All of me screamed to close the gap; The small amount of self-control I had was quickly slipping away to nothingness as my blue eyes met his brown. I could see it in the color of his iris and the swell of his pupils. We both wanted this, but neither wanted to be the first to say it.</p><p>My arms had long since come to rest upon his shoulders, my hands hanging loosely behind him. His were wrapped around my waist, hands linked at the small of my back, pulling us closer. Too close.</p><p>I tried not to think about it, especially since he would <em>know</em> if I did.</p><p>I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, shook my hands and tried to release all my nerves.</p><p>Here goes nothing.</p><p>“Keith, I—”</p><p>A loud shriek of, “KEIIITHH!!!!!” interrupted my speech, and I can’t say I’m that upset.</p><p> I turned to see who was yelling, but instead got a face-full of long, silky, silvery-white hair. The smell of roses and peach flooded my nostrils. Not enough to make me cough, but <em>definitely</em> enough to snap me to reality. A reality that a <em>very beautiful woman</em>, who I recognized more and more as my drunken brain pieced things together, and Keith, were in a sandwich-hug with me, myself, and I. And all of our faces are smushed right on top of each other.</p><p>*Record scratch.*</p><p>*freezeframe, on lance having Bi Panic™*</p><p>“Now, readers, you’re probably wondering how I got myself into this situation. Allow me to elaborate.</p><p>“It all started a week ago, exactly six months since the first night I slept over at Keith’s’. We were back at the apartment he and Shiro shared, having a Voltron sleepover, plus me, of course. I asked the band, on a whim, if they would ever do a collab with another artist…”</p><p>*Old-timey film countdown 5-1*</p><p>They went silent, giving each other awkward glances, not knowing whether or not they should tell me.</p><p>I groaned. “Guys! Come ooon, just tell meeee!!”</p><p>Hesitation.</p><p>Silence.</p><p>“I’m your buddy!! An amigo! Pals! Bros! Dudes?! Come on, what am I gonna do? I’m great at secrets!”</p><p>Hunk and Pidge started to protest that last statement, and I quickly shushed them.</p><p>“If thou doth not wish to give me an answer, thou doth not speak at all.”</p><p>“~But what about that one tiiiiiime~~” Pidge sang.</p><p>“SHUT THINE MOUTH HOLE PIDGEON!!! AND IF THOU DOTH NOT SPEAK <em>OR SING</em> TRUTHS SOUGHT OUT BY YOURS TRULY <em>THEN THOU DOTH NOT </em>SPEAK<em> OR </em>SING<em> AT ALL</em>!!!”</p><p>*Illene whispers “periodt.”* </p><p>“fine! Lance, we’re getting divorced. I can’t stand your dumb ass any longer and were all breaking up with you.”</p><p>“HUNK!!!”</p><p>I felt so betrayed. I knew it was a joke. I had expected a similar one coming, maybe from Keith or Pidge, but NEVER from Hunk.</p><p>“BRO!!”</p><p>The band laughed along with him as I sat in a state of utter pain from the ultimate backstab. I could see a tint of rosy regret on Hunk’s cheeks though, and that was enough for me.</p><p>“okay, fine. Later losers.” I said as I dramatically stood from my spot on the couch, strutting through the pillows and blankets strewn about the living area towards the door.</p><p>The laughing wavered for a bit as they all shouted variants of “Lance, No!” “Wait! Don’t go!’ and, my personal favorite, from my dearest Pidgeon.</p><p>“Bye bitch.”</p><p>“Yes, yes I am,” I mumbled to myself as I turned back around to give them all an accusatory glare.</p><p>“if you all want to divorce me so badly then I’m going to get the paperwork.”</p><p>“I can see the headline now, “Man hires a lawyer to divorce an entire band.”” Shiro is mocking me, I know it, but I can’t help but chuckle at the idea of that actually becoming a headline.</p><p>Keith rolls his eyes and gets up from his spot next to mine on the couch.</p><p>“Lance, we aren’t even married yet, so we can’t get divorced.” He grabs my hands and begins to pull me back.</p><p>I bury the slight blush and involuntary squeeze of my heart that I get at “yet,” and turn it into banter, Just the usual.</p><p>“Ooh, not yet? Keithy, is this your proposal?” I purr lightly and wiggle my eyebrows, knowing this will get a good reaction.</p><p>He sent a strong glare my way, finally relenting after a minute of me smirking and making… suggestive faces at him, receiving lots of laughter from our little audience. </p><p>He turned away sighing.</p><p>He shook his head and muttered, “Lance, Lance, Lance. What am I going to do with you?”</p><p>Which, normally, would’ve made me flip my shit. This time, I literally got flipped. By Keith, over the back and onto the couch.</p><p> </p><p>(TIME SKIP)</p><p> </p><p>“TELL MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!” I begged.</p><p>And I mean literally begged. On my knees. In front of the entirety of Voltron, who collectively sighed out of disappointment from me asking again.</p><p>I’d let it go after a bit last night, and they tried to get me drunk so I’d forget they ever said anything at all. Luckily for me, I remembered.</p><p>“Lance, if we tell you will you finally shut the hell up about it?”</p><p>“YES!! That’s what I’ve been promising this whole time but I’m glad you’ve come to your senses, Pidgeon.”</p><p>I sat back on my heels, bouncing in excitement at finally cracking them.</p><p>They took a moment to silently communicate through an intricate language of nodding, until the all turned back to me.</p><p>I looked up eagerly at them, giving my best, “Happy Puppy,” eyes so there was no way for them to change their minds.</p><p>Keith sighed once more before saying, (Finally) “We’re doing a collab this month. With who will remain a surprise.”</p><p>My protest was quickly shut down by Shiro saying, “He’s teasing, Lance. It’s with Allura’s band. We wanted to surprise you, but she gets here next weekend so there’s not much of a point.”</p><p>“W-w-w-wuh—Wait. You mean to tell me this big collab secret is that you’re working with <em>Allura</em>?? Like <em>The</em> Allura? Of ‘<em>Allura and the Alteans?</em>’”</p><p>Hunk sighed. “Yes, the Allura, from ‘Allura and The Alteans,’—”</p><p>“The one you had a painfully obvious crush on all of middle and high school even though you never said anything about it? And who’s now openly a lesbian and dating her best friend and band mate, Romelle? Yeah, her.”  Pidge finished.</p><p>Hunk nodded in agreement. “What they said.”</p><p>I tried to open my mouth and form some sort of response, but all I did was gape there like a fish for several minutes. If there was a human embodiment of the singular eye, mouth, then the other eye, I’m sure that’s what I looked like.</p><p>“I—Yeah.” Was all I managed.</p><p>“Did really <em>everyone</em> know?” I asked, the embarrassment hitting me in the form of a swift kick in the face.</p><p>“Yep,” answered Keith.</p><p>“Everyone did.” Was Shiro.</p><p>“Oh totally, the entire school.” Hunk.</p><p>“Yeah, even Allura.” Pidge said.</p><p>They held their hand up in a ‘<em>Pause</em>,’ motion. “Especially Allura. You aren’t exactly subtle, kid.”</p><p> </p><p>I sighed. “Thanks for waiting ten years to tell me guys.”</p><p> </p><p>“No problem.” Keith said, reaching over to give my knee a pat.</p><p>“Anytime, <em>Lanceo</em>.”</p><p> </p><p>~~~</p><p> </p><p>“And we’re going out clubbing beacaaauuuuse???” It was a genuine question, they hadn’t told me what we’d be doing, just to bring overnight stuff on Friday and to ‘dress like you’re trying to pay rent.’</p><p>(Pidge’s words. Not mine.)</p><p>My words or not, I listened and donned black fishnets, jean shorts and my favorite white crop top. I wore my usual green bomber jacket overtop, but overall, I think I could definitely earn some coin in this if that’s what I needed.</p><p>“Becaaauuuuse, Leandro, <em>we</em> haven’t been in a while, and <em>you’ve</em> never been with us. Also, we were all off plus, it’s Queer’s Night.”</p><p>“Ahhh that’s why you told me to dress like a stripper. You knew I’d go the feminine route.”</p><p>“Yes and no. I expected something similar to this but also because we’re going <em>clubbing</em>, dummy, you need to act slutty. Plus, it doesn’t matter if you dress more masculine and are a cis guy. They’ll still let you in. it’s not up to them to pin your sexuality, gender orientation or presentation.” They turned back around from the passenger’s seat after their spiel, returning their gaze to the road as they sipped on a glass of water.</p><p>Hunk and I gave everyone a bottle and made sure it was gone or near gone before we entered the car. We were for sure getting shit faced and the more water we could get in our systems beforehand, the better.</p><p>“Plus, they don’t keep you out for being straight, Hunk comes with us all the time. As long as no one starts any trouble, it’s all good.” Shiro said, looking up at me through the rear-view mirror. Like a mom driving her kid to soccer practice.</p><p>I laughed awkwardly. “oh, I’m not worried about that.”</p><p>He nodded it off, but I could hear everyone’s mind racing with thought about what I just said. </p><p> </p><p>Thankfully, everyone had enough sense to drop it and move on. Pidge turned on the radio, and Hunk finished the run down with me on what to expect. He gave me all the drink names to try, the DJ that would be there, and how big of a crowd to expect.</p><p>He really was a great friend. He knew small spaces freaked me out and that I hadn’t clubbed often because of that, so he kept reassuring me I’d have plenty of space to move and party.</p><p> </p><p>Sooner or later we pulled into the club, filing into the pulsing room filled with dance, sweaty, half naked party goers. We all head to the bar for a drink together, cheering and laughing with the crowd.</p><p> </p><p>Hours later, I find myself in the middle of the dance floor, drunk off of one too many tequila shots and I was definitely high off of the room’s energy. All the tipsy dancing, grinding and singing had rubbed off on me.</p><p>At one point I’m pretty sure I threw it back on some butch girl and proceeded to have a dance-off with her.</p><p>I’m sure there were numerous other equally stupid things I’d done over the course of tonight, but right now I couldn’t remember.</p><p>All I knew was the beat of the music, the alcohol coursing through my veins, the bodies moving around me, and the figure that made its way toward me from the side.</p><p> </p><p>The man came from my right, grabbing me by the waist and pulling me in. I continued the body roll I started before, my hands leaving my head and grabbing the back of his.</p><p>I knew this head. I knew this hair. This face, these eyes, these lips, this nose. This body.</p><p>It belonged to Keith. My Akira.  <em>Mi cielo.</em></p><p>This body, this Akira, kept his hands on my hips and moved his in sync with mine.</p><p>We swayed there to the music, pressed up close to each other, our bodies flowing together like water. We danced to fluidly, you would’ve thought it was choreographed. That every twist, roll and step we took was finely detailed and manufactured through months of lessons.</p><p>I was vaguely aware of the song changing, but once it did, I immediately recognized it as an old Galran Empire song, “Geronimo.”</p><p>It reminded me of Keith, because, once upon a time, in high school, it was our song. And thinking of Keith and high school cleared my head, enough to make me realize the guy that’s currently wrapped around me, body rolling and practically grinding along with me to the music <em>is</em> Keith.</p><p>The beat of the song was fast, but my heartbeat was faster.</p><p>I realized I was staring right at his chest and shoulders, which were rather prominent with his tight red tee and hair pulled back in a half bun.</p><p>Turning a deep pink, I whipped my head up, which turned out to be an even worse idea than if id just kept my gaze at his chest.</p><p>My breath mixed with his, our faces mere inches apart. The music was pounding, and people were screaming. The patrons of the club were far from quiet as they talked and danced wildly in a drunken stupor.</p><p>But all I could hear was the slow inhales and exhales we took, his movements and the way my heart was beating so loud I thought it would jump right out of my chest.</p><p>*Another freezeframe and record scratch*</p><p>“Well, readers. Now you’ve gotten caught up, I wont make you scroll through my gay panic and stress a second time, especially since  it’s four am where the writer is and she doesn’t feel like scrolling up to copy and paste that whole section. Back to where we left off!”</p><p> </p><p>*old time-y countdown re-appears*</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Please, god, let me forget this tomorrow. Let everyone forget this tomorrow. </em>
</p><p>The icing on the cake, though, is that when the woman pulls back enough to show her face, my suspicions are confirmed.</p><p>Allura.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I've been writing this chapter for like a year, purely because my dumb little brain forgot where i ended the last chapter, or at least forgot that yall have yet to read the unfinished or edited chapter like i have. Cause normally what i do here on archive is update at like two am then edit the following weeks so as to not keep yall waiting, but for some reason i kept thinking yall were reading everytime id open my word doc and add a page or two. </p><p>ANy who enough looks into my troubled mind, i hope you enjoyed this latest chapter of Green!! I updated and edited all my previous chapters this morning and i changed a lot of typos and small plot holes, as well as adding more details i realized were only in my head and not yet expressed in writing, so go re-read if you'd like!! Pls leave any questions, comments, concerns or emotional outburts in the comments. </p><p>Also, did yall catch my Geronimo reference? if youve read Shut Up and Dance with Me, you'll understand, if not, i highly recommend, its a dance au klance fic and its sooo good. You can find it here on ao3, by the author Wittyname (idk if thats how its spelled or if theres an underscore or anything but i know its witty name)</p><p>(idk if ive told this story before but i add emotional outbursts bc my musical theatre teacher says that at the end of class and we all just scream for like a solid minute and i think it's funny.)</p><p>anywho, until next time, signing off for now,</p><p>~ilene</p>
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<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Kallura and Lance Bi's so bad. Someone help him</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>alternative title; “For completely personal reasons I will be passing away. Respectfully.”</p><p>tbh idk what this chapter is, i pulled it outta nowhere.</p><p>i made a to/too mistake somewhere in this chapter and i cannot for the life of me find it so someone else, if you see it, pls comment and tell me.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>YALL IM SO SORRY ITS BEEN LIKE LITERAL MONTHS AHH</p><p>anyways i wasnt in a very good place and i wasnt using writing as my normal escapism but im quarantined again so now i basically got no excuse. also exams and shit is a bitch.</p><p>yall should thank my friends bc she was asking about my writing and it made me go "Oh shit i havent updated green since like.....2011" </p><p>anywho enjoy</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>KEITH</strong>
</p><p>“Hey! Allura, you made it!!” I greeted, pulling away from our little group hug and getting myself as far away from Lance’s lips as possible. “How was the trip?”</p><p>She beamed, bouncing up and down in excitement.</p><p>“Oh, it was wonderful!! I’m so glad we’re finally going to work together, and <em>good fuck, </em>I could not be happier to get out of that stuffy plane with all those stuffy, rich pricks.”</p><p>I chuckled lightly at her words. I always forgot how much of a potty mouth she was.</p><p>“Yeah, I bet. I’m glad you’re here too! For now, though, let’s just drink and not think about work.”</p><p>She sighed happily and took a sip from the beer bottle I only just realized her to be holding. Where she’d had it hidden, I’d never know.</p><p>“I completely agree.” She sipped again and finally turned to see Lance, her face becoming a bright pink and eyes opening wide in shock. “Oh <em>shit</em>! I’m so sorry! Did I interrupt something? Oh <em>fuck</em>, I did, didn’t I?”</p><p>Lance laughed sheepishly, rubbing his hand behind his head. “No—It’s cool, you didn’t interrupt anything.”</p><p>Allura clutched her chest, releasing a dramatic sigh of relief. “Oh, thank fuck, I never would’ve forgiven myself! Lord <em>knows</em> you need every chance you get, Keith.” She wiggled her eyes at the last bit, grinning like a little devil.</p><p>I was beginning to hope back to my, “<em>Plan K,”</em> from Lance’s first night over. (<em>Remember</em>: <strong>K</strong>, for <strong>K</strong>ill <strong>K</strong>eith. <em>Please</em>.)</p><p>I broke the almost-silence (The club music and people made it impossible for silence to occur but, rest assured, no one in our little group so much as breathed for a minute or two) by clearing my throat, turning briefly between the two. I tried and failed to settle my gaze upon one, both Lance’s obvious uncomfort and Allura’s suggestive expression, turned into a light glare in Lance’s general direction, both equally horrendous and embarrassing.</p><p>“So! Allura! You remember Lance, right?” I started, not bearing the tension any longer.</p><p>“Yeah, of <em>course</em>! He’s the one you and Voltron always stuck with back in the day, then broke your heart into a million little pieces and <em>ghosted you</em> for <em>five years</em>! It’s been too long dude, how’ve you been?!”</p><p>I bit deep into my lip, trying to suppress a smile. Of <em>course,</em> she was so passive aggressive.</p><p> Obviously, I’d stopped being angry at Lance a long time ago, and never would’ve accused him so directly, but it was still funny to see Allura so pissed. She hid it behind a bright smile, but you could see it in her eyes. And hear it in her words.</p><p>“I’ve—uh. I’ve been… good.”</p><p>“Great! I’m <em>so</em> happy—”</p><p>“Allura, <em>no</em>—” I finally managed to laugh out. “Don’t beat him up, we’re cool now.”</p><p>I could’ve sworn I heard Lance sigh in relief as I watched Allura give him a hesitant glare, until settling back to cheery smiles.</p><p>“Fine, but if he tries that shit again ill beat his ass so far into the future, he won’t remember his own damn name.” </p><p>I couldn’t help but laugh this time. “Okay, Allura. We get it, now calm down. Go do some shots.”</p><p>She smirked and agreed, grabbing both of us by the wrist and dragging us back to the bar.</p><p>This was going to be a long couple of weeks.</p><p> </p><p>~~~</p><p>After an <em>insanely</em> long night of clubbing and tomfoolery, with some new ridiculous stories to tell, including but not limited to; Lance putting “Milady” in every sentence and calling everyone (and I mean <em>everyone</em>) “Milady.” Hunk trying to pole dance on a stop sign, Pidge saying they were a Little Einstein, Allura insisting she do body shots off of the bartender, (poor guy was just trying to do his job) and Shiro singing the “Wheels on the Bus,” song for hours on end, we eventually returned home.</p><p>Allura wasn’t in a clear enough headspace to check into her hotel, so she spent the night on our couch. Hunk and Pidge managed to make it to their respective beds across the hall, the same went for Shiro and I.</p><p>Which just left Lance.</p><p>Normally we blew up an air mattress for him in my room, but our drunk asses couldn’t see, and our sober asses beforehand forgot about that aspect of the night.</p><p>Tipsy Keith and Lance somehow decided the smartest option was for both of us to sleep together in my bed.</p><p>And, <em>obviously</em>, since it was hot as shit and we were sweaty and drunk, we stripped down to our boxers. <em>And got in the same bed.</em></p><p>Which leaves us here, with me clear-minded, mostly sober laying on his bed, staring at his ceiling while Lance Fucking McClain rests his head on my chest, his arms wrapped around my neck and torso respectively, legs intertwined and heart beating out of his chest, wishing for death.</p><p><strong><em>Again</em></strong>.</p><p>~~~</p><p>What felt like two hours later, the warmth on top of me finally shifted. Only after Shiro had come in to check on us and gotten this in picture form for blackmail, obviously.</p><p>Lance yawned and stretched his arms out, humming with contentment.</p><p>“g’morning.” He greeted before nuzzling back up into the crook of my neck, the fluffy top of his hair tickling my chin.</p><p>“Morning?” I half questioned, trying desperately to calm my heart.</p><p>I counted to three, knowing it was a matter of seconds before he realized what was happening.</p><p><em>One Mississippi</em>—</p><p>Nothing but the birds chirping outside, sunlight hitting our chests and calming breaths of the Cuban boy upon me.</p><p><em>Two Mississippi</em>—</p><p>A pause, the light feeling of his eye lashes hitting my shoulder, letting me know he opened his eyes wide.</p><p><em>Three Mississippi</em>—</p><p>A sharp inhale. Lance bolted upright, looking down at me fearfully.</p><p>“Um… I—”</p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p>“Yeah?”</p><p>I sighed. “Yeah.”</p><p>“Ayo <em>what the <strong>fuck</strong></em>—”</p><p>Ah. That’d be Allura in the doorway.</p><p>Looking at Lance on top of me, our faces flushed and skin bare.</p><p>This looks <em>great</em>.</p><p>Lance scrambled off of me and genuinely looked like he was fearing for his life.</p><p>“Allura this is <em>not</em> what you think!” He exclaimed, panic rising in his voice.</p><p>To my utmost dismay, Allura simply laughed and walked out, shutting the door behind her.</p><p>“Fuck.” I muttered, clambering out of bed and shoving on a pair of sweats and an old tee, handing some to Lance as well. “Lance, stop panicking it’s fine.”</p><p>“But, we—” He argued.</p><p>“I said it’s <em>fine, </em>Lance. Nothing happened, they’re just gonna tease a bit. Now calm down.”</p><p> </p><p>I opened the door to find Allura smirking into her coffee cup on the couch.</p><p>“Listen here you little shit,” I started, my pointer finger held out accusingly.</p><p>“Ah ah ah, first tell me how it was.”</p><p>I sighed. “Allura, shut the fuck up you know nothing happened. I know Shiro already showed you the pictures too. Can you please let it go?”</p><p>She crossed her arm that wasn’t holding her mug over her chest, letting out a little, “Hmph!” in frustration.</p><p>I rolled my eyes. “Lance, get your ass out here and eat something!” I shouted back to him.</p><p>He walked out, pulling his hands down his face with a yawn.</p><p>“How about coffee first??”</p><p>I nodded, already on my way towards our coffee pot.</p><p>“Agreed.”</p><p>~~~</p><p>“Let me get this straight. Y’all slept like <em>this</em>??” Pidge asked bewildered.</p><p>We all sat around our eating nook for an extremely late breakfast. It was past brunch hours and leaning into the “Breakfast for an early dinner,” time zone.</p><p>I groaned into my hands, slamming my head into the table.</p><p>“<em>Yes</em>, now can we <em>please</em> put the pictures away??”</p><p>“Agreed! Please change the subject, too.” Lance piped up.</p><p>No one listened, instead blabbing on about how <em>cute</em> we were and how <em>romantic</em> it was. All that shit.</p><p>Choosing to ignore them as well, I turned to face Lance and started small talk.</p><p>“So, Lance, how’s the career?”</p><p>“Still unemployed and still undecided on how to go for my masters after a year off.”</p><p>I nodded, tuning out the other idiots completely.</p><p>“What about you, how’s that band of yours?”</p><p>“Well, it’s funny you ask McClain, we aren’t currently doing so hot.”</p><p>He faked surprise and concern. “Oh no! Do tell more.”</p><p>“They’re acting like a bunch of dicks and I’m debating divorcing them.”</p><p>“No!” He gasped, putting a hand over his heart.</p><p>I nodded and raised my hands, as if saying, <em>“Yeah. I know. It’s crazy, they’re assholes.”</em></p><p>“You know, Kogane, I actually tried to divorce a band myself this past week. “</p><p>My turn to gasp. “You don’t say!”</p><p>“I do! Luckily, their ridiculously dorky lead singer convinced me not to.”</p><p>A smile found its way to my face. “Sounds like a genius man, ridiculously handsome too.”</p><p>He laughed, the amusement lighting up his face.</p><p>“Yes, that’s certainly one way to describe my Akira.” He looked at me with a gleam in his eye, the blue color playful, like dolphins jumping and swimming through the sea.</p><p>Heat flooded my cheeks like the oceans I was seeing Lance’s eyes. He’s called me Akira before, and normally if someone called me my first name, I’d drop kick them, but with Lance, somehow, I didn’t mind. And I was used to him calling me Akira, but with that “<em>my</em>,” at the beginning… That would take some serious adjusting to.</p><p>“Ahem.” Allura coughs, causing Lance and I to break our gaze on each other’s eyes to see everyone else staring at us.</p><p>“Right,” I started, scratching the top of my head, leaning down in embarrassment.</p><p>“No, no, don’t let us interrupt. Continue your fun.” Allura says, resting her head on her wrist, as if we were telling the best story she’d ever heard.</p><p>Pidge wrinkled their nose, “<em>Ew</em> no, Allura, they’re disgusting, they need to get a room.”</p><p>That earns them an eye roll, “It’s young love, Pidge! Let them enjoy themselves! Plus, it’s not like they’re fucking right he—”</p><p><em>“OKAY CONVERSATION OVER!”</em> Shiro, bless him, yells out. “I do <strong><em>not</em> </strong>need to discuss my little brothers potential sex life at the table. Or ever!”</p><p>Okay never mind, fuck you Takashi.</p><p>“There is <em>no</em> sex life to discuss!”</p><p>Wait no, that makes me sound lame.</p><p>“With Lance! But also, yes! Don’t talk about my sex life. Or lack thereof. No—fuck. Please change the subject.”</p><p>I sigh, giving up completely with speaking and instead slump my head forward into my arms.</p><p>Of course, this starts a chain reaction of Pidge snorting at my stupidity, Hunk following soon after, making Shiro laugh, who causes Allura to laugh, until finally, Lance and I join in at last.</p><p> </p><p>~~~I MIGHT CONNECT THIS BETTER IN THE FUTURE BUT IM TIRED AND NEED TO POST THIS CHAPTER AHH~~~</p><p> </p><p>“<em>ALLURA</em>! Leave Lance alone! He’s apologized, we’ve all made up and moved on, stop teasing him!”</p><p>“IT’S <em>FUNNY</em> KOGANE, LEARN SOME HUMOR!!”</p><p>I sigh, for probably the hundred-millionth time today, and I’ve only been awake for four or five hours, so I’d say I’m at a new record.</p><p>Excessive-sighing aside, I went to answer the door. I don’t know who I was expecting, but when I opened the door to Romelle, I was pleasantly surprised.</p><p>“Hey! I didn’t know you were coming over! I woulda made them clean up after their rat-asses. Sorry we stole your girlfriend.”<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>She laughs politely, “That’s actually why I’m here I figured none of you would be sober enough to drive so I hauled an uber over once my own hangover became manageable.”</p><p>I nod and open the door wider, stepping back to make a walkway. “Well, please, come in!”</p><p>We step past the entrance hall to the kitchen, where Hunk and Pidge are talking while Hunk cooks with Shiro. They all greet Romelle and return to their business, and we head into the living area.</p><p>“Allura, your girlfriend is here for you.”</p><p>Allura gets up and stumbles over to me, whining like the child she is.</p><p>“Nooooo don’t let her take meee, she’ll make me take care of myself.” She wraps around me like a koala and makes a face similar to that of eating something sour.</p><p>Romelle, used to Allura’s bullshit, simply unwraps her arms from my torso and drags her back towards the door. As usual, Allura was spewing bullshit and immediately snuggles up to Ro, kissing her cheek and cooing about how she missed her.</p><p>“Sorry, she’s still a bit tipsy. She may have been given a screwdriver when we ate not too long ago.”</p><p>Ro gives me a look, to which I shrug and point at Pidge.</p><p>Laughing, we wish our farewells and off she goes, leaving me to the chaos of my band and my Lance.</p><p>I sigh. Here we go.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Tysm for reading!! i hope you enjoyed this latest chapter of Green!! Pls leave any questions, comments, concerns or emotional outburts in the comments. </p><p>again, sorry this took so long, i swear ill try to be better, i just dont like updating only to make announcements bc it messes with chapters and also i hate when authors do that bc i want the chapter, damnit! So instead i just kinda ghost the story and end up feeling shitty. <br/>I will edit this eventually tho, but then again idk no concrete promises</p><p>anywho, until next time, signing off for now,<br/>~ilene</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Lance is a lonely lad</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Major homophobia tw/ cw. If you're uncomfortable with queer/religious homophobia, skip everything in the italic section. It will say, it's a ton of plot, so i'll summarize what happens in the end notes to prevent spoilers for those who are okay reading that. </p><p>CW's!!! Homophobia, frequent use of f-slur, panic attack, self deprecation, self deprecating thoughts, religious trauma</p><p>also, apologies for not getting this out sooner, this chapter obviously deals with heavier stuff so it took more to write, and i wanted it to be a smooth and realistic as possible. It was a bit of a challenge, so i hope you guys like it!</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>skip from "i grab his hands," to "re-adjusting my headband"</p><p>also i would like to note that by using bits and pieces of Spanish and Japanese i am in no way trying to appropriate culture or language. If any of you reading are native speakers feel free to correct me, i did my best but im white af and just kinda have to trust google/ language learning websites on this one. translations will be in end notes :)<br/>(im sorry for using that emote to anyone who watches the dream smp lol)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>After that fated day where no one knew how to shut the fuck up about Keith and I falling asleep together, it took a week and a half to see the band again. Even then, I asked Keith if he wanted to meet up for milkshakes, cause I, being the best friend ever, found a new place that has dairy-free milkshakes. We barely even had time to talk and before their manager called them back to the studio.</p><p>The manager in question wasn’t even Voltron’s. Their manager wasn’t even a person. Their manager is a mix of Voltron themselves with a mix of friends who found places and Pidge’s brother Matt. And that might only be because Pidge thinks Matt still has the hots for Shiro.</p><p>I didn’t even know they had dated.</p><p>But of course, Allura has a real manager. Coran, from Jarre Records. Coran, of course, was keeping them holed up in the booths and not even letting them have a break for milkshakes with their bestest bro, Lance.</p><p>Which leaves me here. Sitting alone under my favorite tree by the edge of my family’s property, alone, drinking my sad, lonely milk-less milkshake, watching the wind dance through the flora around me.</p><p>It hadn’t even been two weeks since Keith and I sat in this same spot, drinking, laughing and all the usual tomfoolery. Being here without him seems so lonely, so empty. Focusing hard enough, I can almost smell the vanilla pine forest that trails with him. Tuning out nature itself, I could hear his heart, his breath. The jokes he pulls, the laughter that spills from his mouth after a joke of my own, though he always denies it.</p><p>Closing my eyes, I slip into the reality I’d conjured up, one with our closeness never shattered. And though I’d like to allow my own genius brain the credit for this blissful scene, it wasn’t an original tapestry. Woven from a borrowed pattern, of a time before.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>“Lance, you dumb fuck.” He breathed into his palm, slumping against the tree-trunk in defeat. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“HEY! English isn’t my first language, okay! Plus, it’s grammar rules are stupid.” </em>
</p><p><em>“You learned English at the same time as when you learned Spanish, </em>Leandro<em>.” He turned his head ever-so-slightly to bore those lavender-honeyed eyes into my soul. “And I learned Japanese as a kid, </em>before<em> I learned English in school. So, don’t try me.” </em></p><p><em>Slumping back against the tree, bobbing my head back to mirror his gaze, I rolled my eyes. “Tienes suerte de que eres bonita, </em>mi cielo.” </p><p>
  <em>His eyes crinkled in confusion. “I don’t know what you said, but I’d have to imagine it was rude.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>I laughed, loud and clear, chin falling to my chest, shoulders shaking silently. “You know me too well.” </em>
</p><p><em>“</em> <em>それは私の多くの才能の一つです“  </em></p><p>
  <em>His joy matches mine, though neither knew what the other meant, it didn’t matter. We just laughed, and I reveled in the warmth that was him. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p> </p><p>A similar scene unravels before me. The two of us lay close—too close—as we gaze up at the sky. Our bodies faced in different directions, so we could slot closer together, two pieces of a puzzle that never should be apart.</p><p>It was particularly cloudy that day.</p><p>Our favorite.</p><p>It was bright despite the over casted shadow, warm despite the breeze. And looking back, we were miles apart, despite our nearness.</p><p>I told myself to run. Run from this twist in my gut, to run from the warmth. But, I couldn’t. Not fast enough. And in the war with my own heart, I’d failed to protect his.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>“This one’s a wave.” He lifted his finger, pointing off somewhere to my left. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Kinda just looks like a blob from here.” My comment made us giggle, shoulders shaking as our spirits float higher than the clouds we gazed upon.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Inhaling deeply with closed eyes, I open them and resume searching in my exhale. “That one looks like the painting of the lovers, y’know, with the hands?” I gesture to the right, letting my hand fall into the position I saw, comparing the two.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Keith lifted his hand, forming the other half. “Yeah, it kinda does.”</em>
</p><p><em>Shifting my gaze towards our hands, I inch mine closer to his. He does the same. I close the distance with a “</em>boop<em>.” My eyes trace the outline of him in the sky, falling down his arm until they reached his face. A soft breeze enveloped us in a gentle embrace, holding us close, away from the rest of the world. A picture-perfect bubble I hoped would never pop. “Hey, Lance?” But all good things must come to an end. </em></p><p>
  <em>“I think I’m in love with you.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>My heart stuttered to a stop. This couldn’t be happening right now. Surely, I’d misheard. “Yeah, I love you too, dude.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Sighing in exasperation, he flipped on his side to face me. “No, Lance, like, I want to be yours.” </em>
</p><p><em>Denial flowing through my veins, I mirror his position. “I </em>am<em> yours. I’m your best friend.” </em></p><p>
  <em>Pinching the bridge of his nose together, he mutters something breathy I don’t quite catch. He speaks again, clearer this time. “No, Lance, like this.” He scoops my head into his hands and promptly kisses me right on the mouth. </em>
</p><p><em>We’re still facing different directions, it’s awkward, sloppy, and for the first couple of seconds, I sit still in shock. Until he starts to pull away, recoiling slowly, embarrassed as he assumes his answer</em>.</p><p>What just happened<em>.</em></p><p><em> I grab his hands</em>.</p><p>What am I doing? I need to stop<em>. </em></p><p>
  <em>I sit us up—</em>
</p><p>Put his hands down, Lance. Let him down easy. Don’t make this difficult</p><p>—<em>I look into his eyes, see his breathless, confused, beautiful face-- </em>Lance, don’t be a fag-- <em>and smash my lips back against his. </em></p><p>
  <em>It comes easier this time, the kissing. Our faces properly aligned and all. I let go of his hands in favor of reaching to the base of his neck, where I tease my fingers through his hair, grabbing hold of the very mullet I mock him daily for. Suddenly, it was my favorite thing in the world.</em>
</p><p>
  <em> Every doubt, every thought melted away in the fire we’d sparked into existence. There was only him. His hands wrapped around me, at my waist, at the back of my neck. His lips against my own, our bodies, inching closer, closer, closer. In desperation, I re-arrange my legs for optimal nearness, sending us toppling over so that I land on his thighs. My hands move to protect the back of his head and hold myself up. Lips broken apart; we stare at each other in silence. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Silence turns to laughter. Laughter gives my mind a moment to think again. Thinking allows me to process the past five minutes. Processing the past five minutes tears my heart in two, caught between the warmth I felt for Keith, and between wanting to run far, far away from what I’d been taught was so wrong. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>A hand rubbing up my arm brings me back down to Earth. “Lance? What is it?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>His eyes are wide and doe-like with concern, his face and lips flushed from, well, recent events. He’s unbearably pretty. I can’t hurt him. Not like this, not now, not ever. It would ruin him and me both.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>But that was my only option.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Suddenly very aware of our current position, I scramble off. Up and away and off of this sin. “I can’t do this.” I begin packing up my discarded homework frantically. I look everywhere—anywhere, but him. </em>
</p><p><em>“Lance, what do you </em>mean<em> ‘</em>you can’t do this<em>?’” I hear him move closer; I hear the pain in the way his voice breaks.  I hear the betrayal, the anger. I duck my head in shame. </em></p><p><em>“I can’t do this. I can’t kiss </em>boys<em>; I can’t be gay. I’m not a fag.  I’m not. I’m straight. I’m sorry, I just can’t.” I shove my last notebook in my bag and turn to face him. His expression, once caring, gentle, soft, loving, breathtakingly beautiful, had hardened. It was cold, broken, and something I know I’ll never forget. </em></p><p><em>“So, you just expect me to believe that you didn’t feel anything just then? That it meant </em>nothing<em> to you? That </em><strong>I</strong><em> meant nothing to you?” He spews, harsh and desperate. A single tear falls down his cheek. </em></p><p><em>I break internally. Papá and abuela’s voices repeat in my head like a mantra. “</em>You’re a good young man, no tears---Make God proud, mijo<em>.” I breathe in sharp, tightening my jaw. No tears. </em></p><p>
  <em> “Keith, I never meant to hurt you. I still don’t want to. I don’t need you to believe, I need you to understand.” He wipes the tear away, and every visible emotion is wiped with it. He put his walls back up. “I’m…sorry.”</em>
</p><p><em>“Don’t. Don’t do it then, if you don’t want to. Do what </em>you<em> want to, Lance.” </em></p><p>
  <em>I toss my head back in pathetic frustration. “I can’t, Keith. They wouldn’t let me. It’s not what God wants.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I’ll tell them to fuck off.”</em>
</p><p><em>“I wish it was that easy</em>, mi Estrella<em>.”</em></p><p>
  <em>“I won’t let them hurt you.” His stubbornness never gives, does it?</em>
</p><p><em>“It’s not </em>me<em> I’m worried about, Akira!” I all but shout. “They can beat and abuse me, call me whatever they please and I will sit by like a loyal little puppy because that’s </em>who I am<em>. But I’m not going to do </em>anything<em> that will get you or anyone else </em>I love<em> hurt. I just won’t.”  I beat my fist over my heart for emphasis, tears forming faster in my eyes now. “They’ve already got to me, got in my head. Leviticus 18:22</em>. ‘You shall not lie with a male as with a woman; such a thing is an abomination.’”</p><p>
  <em>Defeat washes over him, his shoulders slump, his head drops. “Fine. I get it. You’d rather hurt me than hurt me.” He shoves his papers and notebooks into his bag and flings it over his shoulder. “Just, forget I ever said anything at all, okay?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>I expected him to fight more, to rebel, yell at me. Curse me out, scream, tear up our shit. Honestly, any of that would be preferable to the cold shoulder I was handed. I stand frozen for a beat, two beats, three, until I come to my senses. “AKIRA, WAIT!!” I shout, but it’s useless. He’s already walked away. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Fuck.</em>
</p><p>I gather my legs, curling in on myself like a centipede. My breathing is labored, my chest painfully tight. I rock myself back and forth as I squeeze my eyes closed. I shake and whip my head around without control. I’ve lost power over my thoughts and actions.</p><p><em>Useless fag.</em> My mind screams. <em>You broke his heart and look where it got you.</em></p><p>
  <em>Nobody wants you here, queer.</em>
</p><p><em>This isn’t what God wants for you, </em>mijo.<em> You must not give in to the devil. ‘You shall not lie with a male as with a woman; such a thing is an abomination.’</em></p><p>“No one will love you, fag. No son of mine will be gay. Stay away from the homosexuals. No befriending a fag. Don’t cry over breaking the fag’s heart, you did the right thing. You shall not lie with a male as with a woman; such a thing is an abomination.” I whisper in a voice that is no longer my own. With each word, my voice shatters more, the tears run thicker down my face. I continue on, repeating the horrible things said to me, to others, and crying all the while. My manic mantra.</p><p>At some point, it becomes too much to continue verbally assaulting myself. There isn’t enough air in my lungs, but the cruel part of my brain screams louder within my head. I rest my head on my knees, and within seconds my jeans are soaked with tears. The damp feeling on my legs give me something else to focus on, even for just a second.</p><p>That second was all I needed.</p><p>I forced my brain to focus on the stitching of the jeans as I wipe my eyes and inhale deeply. Remembering a tip I learned from my therapist, I fumbled for my milkshake, long forgotten beside me. The trick was to drink water during a panic attack, which would both re-hydrate your body and give your brain a breathing break. You can’t actively sob or hyperventilate while drinking something, so it helps to bring someone out of an anxious headspace. I didn’t have water, but the milkshake would serve its purpose. Plus, the cold will also distract my brain, like an ice cube would.</p><p> </p><p>It took me a long, slow sip, but breathing comes easier now, and the sweet chocolate is a perfect antidote to the bitter words left on my tongue.</p><p>I begin to feel content, the shake effectively slowing down my thoughts. The only problem with this, is that now I might conk out against this tree. Surprisingly enough, re-living traumatic things spoken and done to you while having a self-hatred induced panic attack is tiring. Mentally <em>and</em> physically. Whack, dude.</p><p>Checking my phone for the time, apology messages from team Voltron fill my notifications, scattered with random texts from my siblings, I smile at the normality of it. Bleary eyed and sleepy, I begin my stumble back to the house. Responding to messages as I go, I already feel better, more grounded in the present where I’m surrounded by loving, supportive friends and family only.</p><p>I set my phone down on my dresser and flop onto my bed. Gaze locked on the faded stars on my ceiling, I breathe in. I <em>definitely</em> deserve a nap after that.</p><p> </p><p>~~~</p><p> </p><p>Re-adjusting the head band holding my hair back, I apply my last mask. It’s a soothing, matcha mix that cools and calms my skin, re-hydrating after the rough exfoliators I’d put on earlier. I leave enough room around my eyes for an under-eye jelly applique. It’s colored a bright pink, a stark difference from the pale green matcha. As a result, I look like a goofy alien, with my pink under-eye, green face, and white towel band around my head. The leave-in hair mask making my hair spike in a million directions didn’t help the effect at all. I giggle at the sight of myself and quickly snap a picture to Keith and turn off my bath water so it wouldn’t overflow.</p><p>I discard my robe and stoop down into the steaming water. The heat swiftly melts away my stress, if only temporarily.</p><p>I bask in the calm, breathe in the music flowing from my speaker and exhale all the knots and tension in my muscles.</p><p>A soft ping leaves my phone, letting me know someone messaged me. Grabbing my phone, I unlock it to see a reply from Keith.</p><p>
  <strong> <em>wtf is on your face mcclain</em> </strong>
</p><p>I roll my eyes and sigh as I type my response.</p><p>
  <em>it’s a facemask kogane</em>
</p><p>
  <em>look it up</em>
</p><p>His response was almost instant</p><p>
  <strong> <em>I know what the mask is </em> </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong> <em>whats the pink shit</em> </strong>
</p><p>I laugh despite myself.</p><p>
  <em> an under-eye mask</em>
</p><p>
  <strong> <em>why tho</em> </strong>
</p><p>
  <em>skincare is important akira</em>
</p><p>
  <strong> <em>no what do the pinks do</em> </strong>
</p><p>
  <em>they reduce eyebags</em>
</p><p>
  <em>you should try some sometime</em>
</p><p>
  <strong> <em>ha ha</em> </strong>
</p><p>
  <em>im serious!! they really do help</em>
</p><p>
  <strong> <em>yeah okay, whatever</em> </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong> <em>whats the occasion though</em> </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong> <em>how come youre all</em> </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong> <em>y’know</em> </strong>
</p><p>
  <em>lol you mean why am I having a selfcare night? </em>
</p><p>
  <em>no reason in particular, it’s just relaxing </em>
</p><p>
  <strong> <em>ah okay</em> </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong> <em>do you get alien face often?</em> </strong>
</p><p>
  <em>no, only on full moons</em>
</p><p>
  <strong> <em>fuck you</em> </strong>
</p><p>
  <em>you walked into that bud</em>
</p><p>
  <strong> <em>fuck you</em> </strong>
</p><p>I begin to type out “When and where?” with an eye-roll emoji but hit the back button at the last second. If I sent that to anyone else, it’d be funny, but with Keith… I don’t want to ruin this streak we have of not mentioning anything about high school. Instead, I send;</p><p>
  <em>i do actually do this once a month</em>
</p><p>
  <em>twice at most</em>
</p><p>
  <strong> <em>sure, sure</em> </strong>
</p><p>
  <em>im serious!!</em>
</p><p>Before I could argue more, someone bangs at the bathroom door.</p><p>“LEONARDO CHRISTOPHE CHRISLER WHY ARE YOU TAKING TEN YEARS TO BATHE??” Yells Veronica, my sweet, loving older sister.</p><p>“I like my new name, thanks V.”</p><p>“Answer me, loreal.”</p><p>“Because you’re worth it.” I whisper, mocking the loreal paris ads. “Because I’m relaxing.”</p><p>“You can relax in your room, you’ve been in there having a spa day for hours. I need my comb.”</p><p>I roll my eyes. “Fine, let me finish texting Keith and I’ll give it to you.”</p><p>
  <strong> <em>whatever you say, loverboy lance</em> </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong> <em>okay fine I believe you, whered you go</em> </strong>
</p><p>
  <em>I was talking to my sister, but since you brought up the bullshit that was me trying to be cool in hs</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I suddenly refuse to respond</em>
</p><p>
  <strong> <em>Keith is typing…</em> </strong>
</p><p>I chuckle to myself and bust my ass to get out and back into my robe before Veronica busts down the door, grabbing her comb off the counter and turning the lock.</p><p>She opens the door before I can, and snatches the comb and phone out of my hands</p><p>“Hey—” I begin to protest, but she has on her “let me speak.” Face.</p><p>“What were you doing texting Keith in the bath??”</p><p>She’s ridiculous. Her hands move to her hips, and she taps her foot to the floor aggressively.</p><p>“Nothing, V, we’re just friends, don’t make it weird.”</p><p>I make to grab for my phone again, but she steps back with it.</p><p>“You expect me to believe nothing is happening with you and this boy? All you do is hang out with him, and when you’re home, he’s all you talk about!”</p><p>“Veronica, you’re being dumb, it’s Keith, not some random guy off the street. You’ve known him for years. You have pictures of him with braces, you have his mom’s phone number in your phone.” I sigh, crossing my arms over my chest as I lean against the door frame. “Plus, you know our history.”</p><p>She lets out an exasperated huff. “<em>Yes</em>, Lance. And it’s <em>because</em> I know your history that I’m worried. I don’t want to see either of you hurting again.”</p><p>Oh.</p><p>“Look, V, I don’t want that either. Believe me, I still regret everything that happened. I promise I’m trying to be safe, and to not repeat high school.”</p><p>“Good.” She steps closer again, content her point got across.</p><p>“Can I have my phone back now?”</p><p>She smirks, mischief glinting in her eye. “As long as you’re not going to sending him ass pics—”</p><p>
  <em>“VERONICA!!!”</em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>~~</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Blinking several times, I re-adjust my focus on the blue florescent light of my clock.</p><p>
  <em>It’s almost six omg.</em>
</p><p>
  <strong> <em>yeah i already figured that out thx</em> </strong>
</p><p>
  <em>well sorry akira some of us arent irl cats and cant see in the dark v well</em>
</p><p>
  <strong> <em>mcclain we r literally texting on phones rn did you seriously look at a clock</em> </strong>
</p><p> </p><p>I pause. Yes, I did. He doesn’t need to know that, though.</p><p> </p><p><em>pft </em> <em>of course not</em></p><p>
  <em>how dumb do you think i am keithy boy?</em>
</p><p>
  <strong> <em>pretty dumb, actually</em> </strong>
</p><p>
  <em>fuck you</em>
</p><p>
  <strong> <em>yeah yeah</em> </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong> <em>you asked</em> </strong>
</p><p>
  <em>touche</em>
</p><p>
  <strong> <em>douche</em> </strong>
</p><p>
  <em>bitch</em>
</p><p>
  <strong> <em>we should sleep</em> </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong> <em>we have to gp out with the gang tmrw</em> </strong>
</p><p>
  <em>oh shi yea</em>
</p><p>
  <em>okay </em>
</p><p>
  <em>gn ig </em>
</p><p>
  <strong> <em>gn </em> </strong>
</p><p>I set my phone on my dresser, double and triple checking it’s plugged in, before beginning the journey off to sleep.</p><p> </p><p>Later, once I slept maybe two or three hours before giving up and starting my day, I find myself at Shiro and Keith’s place, where the latter looks like an extra in the walking dead.</p><p>“<em>Mi sol</em>, what’s up? You look like shit.” I sit down at the table next to him, poking the arm he’s buried his face into. “No offense.” I add when he turns to glare at me.</p><p>“Lance, we stayed up all night talking. The fuck do you mean ‘what’s wrong?’ I’m tired. I got, like, one hour of sleep.” He seems as if he might turn back into the table, but rather decided that to be too much work.</p><p>“Well, yeah, me either. But we both slept last night, right? I’ll be good for the next day or two without a full 8 hours.”</p><p>If looks could kill, Akira Keith Kogane would have killed me a million times over by now. Afraid his eyes might literally shoot daggers at me; I turn towards the rest of the band. Shiro, the angel, comes to my rescue.</p><p>“Keith, you could have gone to bed at a normal hour. Clearly, Lance didn’t know that you’re a literally toddler who needs 9 hours of sleep plus nap-time and lots of coffee.” He hands Keith a Texas-sized mug and me a normal one, turning his dad-face at me. “For future reference, treat him like a toddler who is legally allowed to drink, drive, and has to pay rent. There, you’ve been warned.”</p><p>I take a hesitant sip of my coffee. “uh, okay? Keith you could’ve told me you were cranky without sleep, I woulda let you go. I’m not evil.”</p><p>“Debatable.” Pipes Pidge from their spot in the corner of the couch, behind a wall of blankets. The only sign of life from them in the past thirty minutes has been the steam swirl emitting from the top of their fort like a chimney.</p><p>“Yeah well I figured we’d be in this together, and that you weren’t some alien freak who defies nature and physics.” He retorts, grabbing his mug like a sippy cup, both hands on.</p><p>“Rude. Not my fault I have a big family.”</p><p>A chorus of <em>ohh</em>’s echo through the apartment.</p><p>“<em>That’s</em> why.”</p><p>“Okay, logic.”</p><p>“Makes sense.”</p><p>“You’re still a freak.”</p><p>I laugh into my mug.</p><p> </p><p> Freak.</p><p> </p><p>Yep.</p><p> </p><p>That's me.</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>summary of cw-ed chunk.--&gt; Lance kissses keith again, goes through some issues internally and ends up rejecting keith bc he can't allow the homophobes in his life that have alrady tramatized and gotten to him to get to keith, and in keiths words, picks hurting keith over hurting keith. Present Lance has a but of a a panic attack over the memeories but uses grounding tecniques and calms himself before settling down for a nap. </p><p>translations in order--&gt;<br/>“Tienes suerte de que eres bonita, mi cielo.” You’re lucky you’re pretty, my sky.<br/>“それは私の多くの才能の一つです“  it’s one of my many talents-- sore wa watashi no taku no saino no hitotsu desu<br/>Papá and abuela-&gt; dad and grandma<br/>mi estrella-&gt; my star<br/>mijo-&gt; my boy/ term of affection for younger male, usually familial<br/>mi sol-&gt; my sun/ sunshine<br/>i cant find where he says it but ik lance calls keith "Mi cielo" which means my sky.<br/>again, please correct me if you're a native speaker and see mistakes!! this goes for my english too lol<br/>(no beta we die like men)<br/>also, question, would y'all prefer the romanized version of the Japanese words in the text and not just the translations? Let me know<br/>Anywho, tysm for reading!! i hope you enjoyed this latest chapter of Green!! Pls leave any questions, comments, concerns or emotional outbursts in the comments.<br/>Any-who, until next time, signing off for now,<br/>~Ilene</p><p>ps if you are fluent in Spanish or Japanese and have any ideas for cute pet names pls suggest them in the comments!! pet names are one of my favorite things to learn in new languages so if you have ant, gimme gimme!!</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>tysm  for reading the first chapter of Green, there will be more, I promise. In the meantime you should check out my other works, Ive got some klance and some other original works. Pls let me know any feedback or ideas you may have. Have a good day yall!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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